Homeless
by Ra'Zara The First
Summary: We all know who Chase is now...but how did he become Hellcat? In the three month gap between "Taken" and being summoned by Douglas, Chase was homeless. This is that story. (Prequel to Hybrid. AU and OOC. T for cussing and demons. Whole family involved.)
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome back to the wonderful world of demons!**

**As you may have already guessed, this is a prequel to Hybrid.**

**Because how did Chase go from Chase to Hellcat, right?**

**Before we start this, it's important to note that this takes place immediately after "Taken." The rest never happened.**

**Also, this is way AU and OOC. There's cussing and demons and various lewd remarks. You were warned.**

**The beautiful part about this, though, is that you don't really need to read Hybrid to understand it. If you want to start here before moving to the trilogy, then go for it. This preceded all of that.**

**However, I'm rambling. Let's get started with Homeless! Chase?**

**"Zara doesn't own Lab Rats or anything you recognize. If you don't recognize it, it's probably hers."**

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><p><em>"There had been times when he knew, somewhere in him, that he would get used to it, whatever it was, because he had learnt that some hard things became softer after a very little while."<em>

**Nick Hornby, _About a Boy_**

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><p><em>"It's hard to stay positive when nothing ever goes right."<em>

**Unknown**

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><p><strong>Ra'Zara the First proudly presents "Homeless."<strong>

_**Chase**_

"It's not here!"

Adam's voice echoed up from the storage area beneath the Lab, reverberating against the metallic walls a bit. I sighed as Mr. Davenport leaned over the opening in the floor and called out, "Are you sure? Do you know what it looks like?"

"I'm pretty sure I know what a roll of red wire looks like," Adam huffed back after a second.

Mr. Davenport frowned. "Adam? You're supposed to be looking for a _dremel_."

Silence, and then: "What's a dremel?"

"It's like a drill," Mr. Davenport called back.

"Oh, okay. And a drill is what, again?"

I sighed. Honestly, I wasn't all that surprised that Adam was having trouble, a thought that annoyed me greatly. Adam was clever, and I didn't understand why he couldn't use that obvious intelligence all the time. It seemed like such a waste.

"Come back up, Adam," Mr. Davenport sighed, rubbing his eyes. "I'll find it later."

"Can I bring this ring - thingy up?" Adam asked.

Mr. Davenport squinted into the hole. "What ring - thingy?"

"I'll just bring it up," Adam responded, answering his own question for us.

"Bring what up?" Leo asked as he walked into the Lab, catching the end of the conversation.

I shrugged as Mr. Davenport closed the floor panel (Adam would be taking the stairs). "Who knows? Something Adam found."

Leo nodded, leaning against the cyber desk beside me. "Why was he down there, anyways?"

"Looking for a dremel," I answered.

Leo frowned and nodded towards the desk. "There's a dremel right there."

Mr. Davenport picked it up. "Yeah, but there's no power behind it anymore. I think the battery died."

Leo looked ready to say something else - most likely to suggest that the battery be charged - but was interrupted by Adam, who finally came through the tunnel. In his hands was a metal ring fixed to a base that had dozens of buttons on it. He put it down on the cyber desk with a grin. "See, I was thinking that we could teach Chase to jump through it. Then, we could actually use him on missions as a distraction instead of a third wheel."

I scowled. I could maybe fit my head through it, but that was all. And I was plenty useful.

"We'll have to lower it, though," Adam went on. "It's probably too high for him to reach." He punched my arm "playfully." I, however, had to stop myself from crying out. Grand, I just got a new bruise. Grinding my teeth, I punched Adam on the chest.

Don't look at me like that; I had a right to defend myself.

Adam scowled and swung back harder. I caught his punch with my hand - I could feel the bones in one of my fingers crack - when Mr. Davenport - not even looking away from the ring - absently said, "Stop picking fights, Chase."

I bit back the observation that _Adam _had been the one who started it rather than me. It wasn't worth it to protest anymore. Nothing would ever be done about it. Instead, I ignored Adam's smug smile as I checked the flexibility of my fingers, wincing when one wouldn't move. Fantastic. Just what I wanted. A broken finger. When I turned my attention back to everyone else, Leo was shooting me a sympathetic look. However, he said nothing.

He never did. No one ever did.

As I crossed the Lab to the cabinets to find a splint and some bandages - I didn't need their help to handle a broken finger - Mr. Davenport finally sighed and poked a button on the base of the ring. When nothing happened, he sighed again. "We never could get this thing to work."

"What _is _that thing?" Leo asked while I wrapped my finger up.

"It's just an old invention Douglas and I made together back in college," Mr. Davenport explained. "It was supposed to open a portal to a different world."

"A Daven-portal?" I commented.

"Technically, a Daven-demon portal," Mr. Davenport answered.

"A _what?_" Adam asked, tilting his head.

Mr. Davenport shrugged. "We were trying to punch a hole into the demon world."

"Okay, but _why?_" Leo asked.

"Because we were stupid college kids who thought demons existed." Mr. Davenport smiled slightly. "Besides, that was before Douglas turned evil."

To be honest, I wasn't totally sold on the evil thing anymore. He _had _saved our lives. He saved mine twice. Still, though...

Douglas was a generally confusing person, I supposed. I was still trying to figure him out.

"Demons don't exist," Leo pointed out.

Mr. Davenport shot him a look. "I know."

"Anyways, Mom said dinner's ready," Leo informed us.

Adam was instantly out of the Lab. Mr. Davenport rolled his eyes and followed him with Leo. I, on the other hand, lingered. As they all turned the corner and vanished, I approached the inoperable portal. It made no sense to me, honestly. Mr. Davenport had always been rational. So _why_ would he ever think that demons existed? They were just mythical creatures thought up to scare little children into eating their vegetables and going to bed on time.

I touched the base of the portal, my fingers lingering over the buttons. It might not work now, but I could probably fix that. I didn't know what would happen, since there wasn't a demon world to break into, but it couldn't be that bad. More importantly, instead of being told to lay off Adam, I might be thanked for once.

That would be nice.

Giving the portal one last look, I moved away from it. I could fix it later, when my finger didn't hurt so badly. A few hours in my capsule would have it good as new, anyways. Resolving to work on it tomorrow, I boarded the elevator, watching the portal until the doors blocked it from view.

Upstairs was the usual mad house. Adam was eating enough for a small army while Bree was practically glued to her phone, texting who-cared-how-many people at once. Leo and Mr. Davenport were in some kind of contest to see who could eat their meal the fastest - at least, I _think_ that was what was going on - and Tasha was watching all of this with an expression of hopelessness.

At least she accepted the chaos for what it was: Family dinner with the Davenports.

I slid into the empty seat by Tasha, shooting her a sympathetic smile. I was actually very surprised when she stuck around after we were introduced. Most women would have left Mr. Davenport the second we were found in the basement because we had been kept a secret.

No one wanted someone who kept secrets that big, right?

Congratulations! Now that we're married, I have a confession: You have three new kids!

Wait, what?!

I love you, dear?

Tasha Davenport: Just rolling with the punches.

Instead of saying hi, though, Tasha instantly grabbed my hand. "What happened to your finger?"

I shrugged, picking up my fork. "You know, just some stupid stuff went down."

Her eyes instantly flooded with concern. "Are you all right?"

It was nice that _someone_ cared. I nodded, giving her a reassuring smile. "It'll be fine."

"Did you set it?"

She was just question central today, wasn't she? I guess it was a mother thing. "It only cracked. Nothing was out of place."

She finally released my hand. "Want some Advil or something?"

Dear God, yes! This thing throbbed constantly. I felt like it was about to fall off.

I shook my head. "It's fine." If I took something, Adam would try to "beat the weakness out of me." I didn't want another set of bruises to hide. Besides, I was no stranger to pain. I could handle it.

Tasha gave me a reproachful look. "You don't have to be strong all the time, you know."

Unfortunately, Tasha, I lived in a house where I kind of _did_ have to be strong all the time. I wouldn't make it otherwise. I smiled at her. "I'm fine. I promise."

She sighed and dropped the subject, opting instead to huff at Adam for abandoning silverware for his fingers. I thought we were done with it, but desert rolled around and, silently, the subject came up in the form of two pills nestled in my ice cream bowl. I stared at them for a second before I finally caught on to what Tasha was trying to do. If I ate the pills with the ice cream, no one would actually know I took them.

In seconds, I popped the pills in my mouth and swallowed like it was just a spoonful of ice cream. Tasha winked discreetly at me, and I shot her an incredibly grateful smile. Clever woman. Maybe she understood the dynamics of the house more than I thought.

After dinner, I passed on the family television marathon. Instead, I sat in my capsule, letting the regenerative properties of the device work its magic on my finger while I read a Stephen King novel Leo had let me borrow. I knew that the stories weren't real, but the horror genre had been particularly interesting to me of late. It was strange to think that an actual person had a mind so twisted that they could come up with something so bizarre.

Like the Daven-demon portal, I supposed.

I glanced across the Lab at it, the strange metallic ring catching the light. Why Mr. Davenport made it out of silver was a mystery to me. Seemed like a waste of money. Steel -or any other metal, really - would have worked just as well, in my opinion.

Oh, well. I wasn't going to poke holes in his designs. I was just going to make the thing work.

Tomorrow, of course. After I could use my finger again. I returned my attention to the book in my hands, smiling slightly.

I'd fix the portal tomorrow.

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><p><strong>There you have it. Most of you probably know what happens next. For those of you who don't, however, it gets weird. <strong>

**Really weird.**

**But we'll worry about that next time, right?**

**Until then, feel free to review. Or don't. Whatever.**

**And, of course, enjoy.**

***Bows and exits***


	2. Chapter 2

**Welcome to chapter two, people! **

**Chasey takes on the portal! Woo!**

**First, though, I'd like to thank the readers and reviewers who are reading and reviewing. What else, right?**

**RissA15: It's just a pattern I'm trying to keep. Also, I'm glad I'm not the only one who does that animation thing. I have never been able to imagine a story as live action, though, so...yeah...**

**Mia-Teresa-Davenport: "Indeed."**

**gg180000: O-o Okay.**

**So let's let Chasey work! Voice?**

**"_Zara doesn't own Lab Rats or anything you recognize. If you don't recognize it, it's probably hers."_**

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><p>"<em>When we fall in love, we hope - both egotistically and altruistically - that we shall be finally, truly seen: judged and approved. Of course, love does not always bring approval: being seen may just as well lead to a thumbs-down and a season in hell."<em>

**Julian Barnes, _Nothing to Be Frightened Of_**

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><p><em>"The lesson was clear and I learned it well: blind acquiescence was necessary to gain approval; being yourself only earned condemnation."<em>

**Tehmina Durrani, _My Feudal Lord_**

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><p><em><strong>Chase<strong>_

The next morning saw me examining the Daven-demon portal. I meticulously looked over all of the wiring, making mental notes of what was connected to what. I then made sure to see which wires were moved when I pressed each individual button. It was a slow process, but it was important. How could I figure out how to fix the thing if I didn't understand how it was built? "Gather information" was part of the scientific method, after all. And, as far as I could tell, it was put together in such a way that it _should_ work.

That left three potential answers: The power source either wasn't engaging fully or was too weak, the coding in the microchip that governed the whole operating system needed some tweaking, or the demon world didn't exist. I was leaning more towards the last one, but I could at least _try, _right? So I popped the microchip out of its compartment and stared at it, my fingers instantly reading the little thing so that lines of code were dancing across my vision as they downloaded onto my hard drive.

I loved bionics. They saved time.

I carefully put the chip on the cyber desk and leaned back in my chair. As I closed my eyes, I accessed the coding and started to read it.

Well, as much as one could read coding, anyways.

Let me explain: I was programmed with a language software - a bionic Rosetta Stone, if you will - that allowed me to translate and speak in many, many languages. Among those were the language of coding and mathematics. Because what were they if not just another way to express an idea, right? So while you might be staring at coding with great confusion, my mind was already translating what it was and what it was supposed to do. It made finding problems much simpler. Then, it was like the code's "grammar" was off. It was a bit like hearing someone say, "How you are doing today?" I could tell the difference. It just struck me wrong.

And it was through this kind of proof reading that I found quite a few errors. They were small - very hard to catch - but they were definitely there. I opened my eyes and let the little USB slide from my finger - odd, I know - before I stuck it in the port, uploading the code to the cyber desk so that I could actually manipulate it. I sought out and corrected each flaw I found, hoping that Mr. Davenport's codes were right in the first place.

Just because they were flawless didn't mean that it was the right combination of codes to make something work.

Hoping that I wouldn't have to rewrite everything - _way _too time-consuming - I downloaded the repaired code into a new microchip before I carefully popped it into the portal. Now to check the power source. I was careful to put some protective gloves on before I pried the power case open and carefully pulled out the small tube of uranium, setting it beside the machine.

Yes, radioactive uranium. What, did you think dimensions could be breached using C batteries?

I pressed a finger to my forehead, an action that set off my scanner. In a matter of seconds, I knew that the isotope was too depleted to do anything more than give someone radiation sickness. If they swallowed it. And it stayed in their system for a month.

I stuck the old power core in a sealed container and stuck it where Mr. Davenport would find it and get rid of it properly. Meanwhile, I dug around in a cabinet and pulled a new core from it, this one strong enough to make my teeth feel numb when I held it a bit too close to my face. Satisfied, I put it in the little compartment that held it and checked the wiring to it. The radioactivity had caused some damage to the wires that directly connected to the core, so I had to replace those. However, other than that minor setback, the thing seemed good to go.

I glanced at the Lab clock, noting with a smile that it was two in the afternoon. It had only taken me about five hours to fix the thing. Assuming that it _was _fixed, of course. I touched the on button, prepared to test it. However, instead of pressing it, I hesitated.

What if demons existed? What if Mr. Davenport and Douglas _hadn't_ been stupid college kids back when they created the thing? What if they were _right?_ I could potentially release something horrible into the world.

Was it worth the risk just to see Mr. Davenport smile at me like he used to? I had stopped being his little Lab partner - and had been essentially ousted from our father-son inventing sprees in the Lab - when Leo became more involved in high-end technology. I didn't know why, really. Was Leo just more interesting just because he was newer to the scene? Was Mr. Davenport just tired of me? Or was it because I looked like Douglas? Was...was _that _why he didn't seem to care when Adam beat me up? Because, to him, I was going to turn into the man I just so happened to resemble?

Whatever the reason, I didn't really enjoy it. So, to revisit my original question, was it worth it?

I set my jaw. Absolutely.

I pressed the button, basically holding my breath. It hissed and sparked a bit around the ring, but that was all. Sighing, I sat back in my chair. Back to the drawing board, I guess.

I closed my eyes to think for a moment when a loud crack caught my attention, followed by a surprisingly strong breeze and a sharp drop in temperature. My eyes snapped open as I prepared to snap at Adam for whatever prank he was surely pulling, but the words died in my throat. What I was looking at defied explanation.

The ring was emitting light.

The metal glowed as a...oily, dark _light_ of some kind grew in the center an expanded to touch the edges. The light seemed alive almost, twisting and moving within itself like it was an ocean.

What was going on?! Did...did it work? Was that actually a demonic realm displayed before me? Or was it just a strange malfunction? No, it _had_ to be a glitch. There was no way it could be a demon world. Demons didn't exist.

Something that sounded suspiciously like a wicked cackle sounded from within the light, causing the hair on the back of my neck to rise.

Demons didn't exist, demons didn't exist, _demons didn't exist!_

This was just a trick of the light, my mind hearing something that wasn't there. It _couldn't _be there.

And I'd prove it.

I raised my hand and inched it closer and closer to the darkness despite the fact that everything in my was screaming to run.

_Coward_, I thought at myself. _No wonder nobody respects you. You're scared of light!_

With a cry of fury that I myself was thinking that, I plunged my shaking hand into the light.

I bit back a panicked scream as something - several somethings - grabbed my hand. I pulled back as hard as I could, but whatever was touching me held fast. They were painfully cold against my skin, and I swore that I felt something nibbling on my wrist. I didn't know exactly what was happening; I couldn't see my hand anymore.

I pulled even harder, but whatever was holding me pulled back, jerking out of the chair as my arm vanished into the darkness up to my elbow. These things were trying to pull me in! Panic started to set in as the things pulled even harder. What do I do, what do I do, what do I-

Break the machine!

I snatched up the closest tool I could - pliers - and pried the base open, digging out the radioactive core. I could just barely see it as I closed the pliers around it and desperately pulled. Unfortunately for me, something decided to bite my hand right then. Alarmed, I squeezed the pliers too tightly, shattering the radioactive core and releasing the...well, the radiation. But that wasn't all. Before the light was gone, the pliers grazed against some sparking wire that had been broken when I moved the core, sending an acute shock through me, burning the tips of my fingers. I flew backwards, released from the light as it vanished. With a cry, I landed on the floor a few feet away, my bionic vision acting up. It _had _to be. I mean, when I glanced at my arm, it was coated in that oily darkness still, and that darkness was moving rapidly towards my shoulder.

I didn't know what it was doing. I was too dazed to care. Everything hurt. The shock had my heart beating so fast that my chest was aching. And breathing wasn't much easier. I closed my eyes, groaning. My arm was cold. That _darkness_ was cold. And I could feel it engulf me in what felt like seconds. That's when the images started. Horrifying, terrible images of unnatural creatures, all interacting with..._me_. As I watched, I slowly started to understand why some submitted while others growled and asserted their authority. The weaker ones groveled at my feet, acknowledging my strength. Meanwhile, stronger ones insisted that _I _should be the one groveling.

I started to agree with each one, for some reason. It was only natural, after all. It felt _right_.

Mixed in with these creatures were images that were harder to accept. Flashes of destruction, forests burning and people's heads on pikes, each one frozen in shock and still bleeding. Images of people cowering before me and those creatures, some injured, others watching as their children were dragged away to be slaughtered.

_Children_.

The sick part was that I found myself _reveling _in these images, some primal sense of mine cheering for whatever monsters were doing this.

After too long - _far _too long - the images started to fade away. Slowly, all the screaming of tortured victims and visuals of brutally mauled people were replaced with silence, with darkness, with coldness. I was almost relieved when a new sound - this one a genderless voice - seemed to interrupt my thoughts.

_Get up._

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><p><strong>So...what caused it? The essence? The radiation? The electricity? Any combination therein?<strong>

**Chase doesn't even know, and he was there!**

**So feel free to submit what you think caused the actual change. I'm curious to see what you think.**

**Or don't review, if you're so inclined. Whatever works.**

**And, of course, enjoy.**

***Bows and exits***


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter three!**

**It's not wonderful. It's mainly filling. But it's here.**

**So I'd like to thank the readers and reviewers who are still here, waiting for Chasey to turn into Hellcat.**

**Mia-Teresa-Davenport:**** "Yes. Yes, it is."**

**Anna Davenport:**** His arm made it. :P**

**RissA15:**** Don't you have a bunch of Hellcat clones running around somewhere?**

**AllAmericanSlurp:**** Yes, stuff happens.**

**So let's go. Chase?**

**"****Zara doesn't own Lab Rats or anything you recognize. If you don't recognize it, it's probably hers."**

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><p><em>"...The battle between good and evil goes back to the start. Adam and Eve and the apple tore Eden apart..."<em>

**Jekyll and Hyde: The Musical, "Good N' Evil"**

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><p><em>"…<em>_I'm the monster. I'm the villain…"_

**Repo! The Genetic Opera, "Legal Assassin"**

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><p><strong><em>Chase<em>**

_Get up._

My first thought upon hearing this in my head was simple: Why was I telling myself to get up? I was fairly sure that I could manage without talking to myself.

_No_, I'm _telling you to get up. So move it. You have a world to destroy._

Whoa, what?! I didn't want to take over the world! I couldn't handle that responsibility! So who was putting this idea - and voice - in my head? Did I somehow become subject to random chatter from Douglas? Or Krane?

Or a _demon?_

_You_ are _a demon, moron_, snapped the voice in my head. _I'm just you._

Ha, no. I was human.

_Not anymore. If you don't believe me, look for yourself._

Determined to prove whatever was talking in my head - maybe Spike had somehow gotten out - wrong, I snapped my eyes open with a growl that shocked even me.

I sounded like a _lion_. _I_ did that. Since when could I do that? I snapped my jaw shut to prevent any other sound from escaping.

Ow! Wrong move.

Since when did I have _fangs?_ More importantly, why did I bite my lip with them? Not the most brilliant thing in the world.

One good thing, though, was the new color spectrum I could see now. Some of the black objects in the Lab took on one of two new colors I could see. I would describe them, but I didn't have the words for it.

How do you describe a new color to someone who can't conceive anything outside of their known color spectrum? It's impossible.

Okay, let's regroup. Fangs, new color cones in my eyes, and random animalistic vocalizations. Those were _major_ changes. It certainly didn't make me a _demon_, though. It just meant that I mutated somehow.

_Your essence makes you a demon,_ the little voice stated in my head. _You're essentially a demon._

Great. The voice I got in my head just _had_ to be one that made puns. _What are you even talking about?_

_If you'd get up and look at yourself, you'd see, genius._

I scowled. _Just because you're in my head doesn't mean that you can be a jerk there._

_I don't see you stopping me. You can't. Not without getting hurt yourself, since I'm you._

I sighed and closed my eyes, rubbing them hard with both hands. Whatever it was, it was an irritating little thing. I sat up a bit with a wince - everything still hurt - and leaned forward, slouching a bit before opening my eyes again. This time, I felt them widen as I finally saw my hands and arms. Thin tendrils of black covered my skin like a tattoo, weaving and swirling into complicated patterns that were so intricate that I had no idea whether or not it was natural. It looked like someone had spent _hours_ carefully painting them on me.

_It's just your essence settling in,_ the little voice explained. _It'll fade in a week or two._

I lowered my ears -

Hold up. Why could I move my ears now?

I reached up and touched my left ear just to find it fuzzy. And, surprisingly, sensitive to my touch. It flicked without any thought from me.

What was going on!?

I scrambled to my feet now, hunting for a mirror. I dug through Bree's stuff, knowing that she had to have something that would show me what I looked like now. I hoped it wasn't as different as it seemed. I sent brushes, various hair bands, jewelry, and so on clattering to the floor as I dug frantically, finally locating a small handheld mirror. Desperately, I held it up to look at my new features, biting back a scream when I finally saw myself. The fangs weren't horribly long – and I only had two on top and two on bottom – but they were definitely unnerving. Worse, my ears had been replaced by some black cat ones. I didn't even know how it was possible. Not to mention that they looked pretty damn weird. The thing that threw me off the most though was my eyes. The pupils, instead of being round, were now slit.

Couple that with the dark lines that covered my face, and I looked like a monster.

I felt something start twitching behind me. I glanced down to find a tail twitching. _My _tail! What?! It was long enough to touch the floor a bit and as dark as my ears. It twitched, causing me to drop the mirror in surprise. As it shattered on the floor, the strange voice in my head started to talk again.

_Believe me now, demon?_

Dear God, I was a monster! _How?_

_It doesn't matter how. All I know is that there's a bunch of people around here that are holding you back. Celebrate your new demonhood! Let's murder them._

_What? No, _I huffed.

_It's your nature now,_ the voice countered. _Demons destroy. You're a demon. So destroy._

I felt my ears lay back in irritation. As odd as that was, it was the least of my concerns. _Get out of my head!_

_I'm here forever. You can't get rid of me. And you're stronger than them. From your memories, I can tell that they don't like you, anyways. So why even tolerate them? How dare they treat you as less than themselves?_

"Shut _up!"_ I snapped out loud. I glared at the portal. This was that stupid thing's fault! I was a mutant because of it!

_A mutant? You're not a mutant. You're more superior than you ever were before._

I lunged at the machine. It changed me. Could it change me back? I grabbed the ring only to cry out in pain and let go. The silver was _painful._

_You can't touch that. It'll burn you._

No. No, no, no, this wasn't happening! There had to be a way to fix it!

_There isn't, so stop fighting it. Besides, you're better now. Why go back?_

Because I didn't want to be a demon! I glared at the portal. If I hadn't tried so hard to get Mr. Davenport's approval, none of this would've happened! It was that stupid machine's fault! I just…I wanted to….

The portal suddenly lit on fire.

My eyes widened as I stumbled a few steps back. Spontaneous combustion?

_No, that was you. You lit it on fire. _

Whoa! _I _did that?

_Now go light those idiots you call 'family' on fire, and we'll call it a night. _

What the hell?! I couldn't. I _wouldn't._

_Sure, you will. It's in your nature. Even if you don't do it now, you'll do it eventually._

I…I would never….But this voice was telling me to…and if I couldn't ignore it….

What if it took over? It would make me hurt everybody!

I couldn't let that happen! I had to leave!

So I charged out of the Lab, up the stairs and into the living room, shoving past Leo and Tasha before I bolted out the door, ignoring them as they called my name. I didn't know where I was going. At that moment, I didn't care. I just had to get out of there.

_What the hell? You should've killed them!_

Okay, after I found a place to stop, I had to get rid of that voice. But not until I was a safe distance from my family.

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><p><strong>I couldn't really find a dramatic enough way to write this chapter, so…this is it.<strong>

**But it's here. So…yay. Enjoy the filling.**

**Feel free to review. Or not. Whatever.**

**I know it's redundant, but, as I said earlier, enjoy.**

***Bows and exits***


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay, Chapter five is later than usual.**

**Reason: I had graduation. **

**That is all.**

**So I'd like to thanks you guys for...you know...reading and reviewing and the like. :3**

**RissA15: This girl now has the power to unleash 5,000+ Hellcat clones on people. Enjoy. :3**

**Mia-Teresa-Davenport: "Right?!"**

**AllAmericanSlurp: No.**

**J. Liz .8: Yes, Chase wasn't a little bitch for no reason. :3**

**Anna Davenport + Chaseylover: Thanks.**

**DarkestKing: *applause***

**So let's do this. Adam?**

**"Zara doesn't own Lab Rats or anything you recognize. If you don't recognize it, it's probably hers."**

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><p><em>"People are supposed to fear the unknown, but ignorance is bliss when knowledge is so damn frightening."<em>

**Laurell K. Hamilton, _The Laughing Corpse (Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter, #2)_**

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><p><em>"I am very protective of my family."<em>

**Christa Miller**

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><p><em><strong>Adam<strong>_

Watching Leo frantically try to explain what he and Tasha saw was just confusing. Apparently, Chase had been running so fast that he had blurred, creating the appearance that some strange darkness clung to him as he fled.

Because he _had _to be fleeing from _something_. Chase wasn't fast enough on his own to be a blur. Something had to give him that panicked burst of adrenaline.

But that "something" was a mystery still.

Maybe he had been running from the fact that he somehow caught Mr. Davenport's old invention on fire. Adam had no doubt that it would get Chase in trouble. However, Chase hadn't ever run from being chewed out before. He was the kind of guy that usually stood up and faced the music. Besides, it wasn't the first time Chase had accidentally caught something on fire in the Lab.

It _was_ the first time in years that he fled instead of just containing it in a forcefield until it exhausted itself.

So...what was the problem?

Adam pondered this as he and Mr. Davenport worked on containing not only the flames - not a big problem for a fire extinguisher - but also some radiation that had gotten out somehow. Mr. Davenport had made the mission suits radiation-resistant, which was why the two were wearing them while Leo tried to explain everything he could to Bree from a safe distance across the Lab. Mr. Davenport was actually trying to explain the process, his voice muffled by the funny mask that was supposed to protect them from whatever radiation did that was so bad, but Adam wasn't paying attention. He was just holding the extinguisher, waiting on Mr. Davenport to just tell him to shoot it at the flames.

Why the fire wasn't already out was actually a bit unnerving to Adam. He might not be the brightest candle ever lit, but he was pretty sure that metal wasn't flammable. And the flames were strange. It seemed _darker _than regular fire, somehow.

The fire let out a spark that drifted towards Eddy's screen, prompting the little program to pop up. "Are you going to put that out or not?"

Mr. Davenport sighed. "Eddy, it's complicated. We don't want the extinguisher spreading around whatever is giving off this radiation."

Eddy scoffed and turned on the sprinkler system, simultaneously soaking everything and everyone in the Lab and putting the fire out. Bree let out a frustrated wail that her hair was ruined as Mr. Davenport gave Eddy an incredulous look, no doubt biting back a hair-based bit of mourning himself. Eddy just smiled. "There. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Mr. Davenport rolled his eyes and picked up some kind of special container. He started towards the now-charred portal - the base had melted horribly, but the silver ring was shockingly all right - and Adam followed closely, kind of curious about what was causing his teeth to feel more numb as he got closer. Adam figured that it was the portal itself, but Mr. Davenport apparently had different ideas. His attention was on a pair of pliers near the machine. Why broken glass and a strange rock or something was so fascinating was beyond Adam, but Mr. Davenport carefully scooped all of the glass and the rock into the little container and sealed it. He put it beside an identical container on the cyber desk before gesturing towards the tunnel. "Okay, everyone out. I'm going to decontaminate this place."

Adam obediently followed Bree and Leo out of the Lab, but Mr. Davenport stopped him at the door. "Adam, the mission suit and mask need to stay here to be cleaned, too."

Adam nodded and hopped in his capsule, allowing the device to change his clothes as Mr. Davenport disappeared to who-cared-where to change. Adam waited at the tunnel until Mr. Davenport reappeared in his normal clothing and typed something into the cyber desk. He then ushered Adam from the Lab as the lockdown doors sealed the place off completely. Adam frowned. "So we just wait now?"

Mr. Davenport nodded. "And we find Chase. I want to know what happened in there."

* * *

><p>"<em>Kinda pointless to fight for what you want when what you want continues to break your heart."<em>

**Molly McAdams, _Stealing Harper (Taking Chances, #1.5)_**

* * *

><p>"<em>Any fool can know. The point is to understand."<em>

**Albert Einstein**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chase<strong>_

Hiding behind a dumpster in an alley wasn't as fun as it sounded. I know that it was a bit cowardly to be hugging my knees and rocking in a basic fetal position, but I was doing it. The voice was angry enough about it, though, so don't bug me. I was getting enough crap from it.

_Why did you run? And why are you cowering? It's pathetic_.

I pinned my ears - I figured out that I could control them and my tail - and let out a frustrated hiss.

I could hiss now. I was discovering all kinds of things.

_Get up, go home and handle those idiots!_

I didn't move, though.

Let's be honest here. It was hard to admit, but this right here was absolutely petrifying. I had _no _idea what was happening, _no_ idea how to handle it, and, to be frank, I wanted Mr. Davenport - or anyone, really - to tell me that it was going to be all right. Childish, I know, but it was becoming obvious to me that I couldn't handle it on my own.

Maybe my family was right. I certainly felt like a useless coward at the moment.

_You're not useless unless you act like you are._

That was...actually a sound statement, I supposed. Incredibly blunt, but sound. _Fine, I'm not useless._

_Then stop acting like it. Do you really want to spend your life depending on others?_

I let go of one knee and sighed. _Not really, but I can't stay out here forever._

_Then go crawling back to those unappreciative morons_, my voice sniffed.

I didn't want that, either. I didn't know what the voice in my head was capable of yet. Besides, it _would _be nice to get a few days away from everyone's constant negativity regarding me. A sort of vacation, I supposed. Just until I figured that voice out.

And my hand healed. A thin burn ran across my palm and a couple of fingers from touching the machine. It hadn't even been hot.

_Silver is toxic to demons, _the voice piped up. _Don't touch it again._

Fine, but I wasn't a demon.

_Yes, you are. Accept it._

It _was_ pretty hard to ignore the new body parts. And the "essence" that was settling in designs on my skin. And the burn that logically came from _nowhere_. My tail started to twitch a bit. If I was a demon, then I had better learn about them, right? And I seemed to know someone who had a better grasp on the subject than I did.

_Okay, let's say that I_ am _a demon,_ I began, speaking to the little voice. _Tell me everything about it._

_That would take several thousand years._

I sighed. Vague douchebag. I lowered my ears and stared at my arms, following the dark patterns on them with my eyes. According to my new voice, it was just my essence settling.

But what did that mean?

_If you won't tell me everything about demons,_ I tried again, _then tell me about essence._

* * *

><p><strong>We're slowly starting the journey from Chase to Hellcat. :3<strong>

**So, until next time, feel free to review. Or don't. Whatever.**

**And enjoy.**

***Bows and exits***


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter five! Woo!**

**...Actually, that's about it. Yay!**

**I'd like to throw in a thanks to the readers and reviewers out there. I would also like people to stop stealing Hellcat's furs in an attempt to make your own clones. He doesn't like that.**

**Chaseylover: Hey, you haven't read the trilogy! I was wondering if I had some new ones. Feel free to read them - starts with Hybrid - but be warned: They have spoilers.**

**Mia-Teresa-Davenport: "I'd rather be sitting behind a dumpster than in it."**

**DarkestKing: He's a tough guy. Not a predicament that he can't handle.**

**So let's do this. Leo?**

**"Hey! What about me?! I appear in this chapter!"**

**...Fine. Oly, then.**

**"Zara doesn't own Lab Rats or anything you recognize. If you don't recognize it, it's probably hers."**

* * *

><p>"<em>Only a weak person needed someone else around all the time."<em>

**Sarah Dessen, _Lock and Key_**

* * *

><p><em>"Don't compromise yourself. You're all you've got."<em>

**Janis Joplin**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chase<strong>_

Essence was complicated.

Apparently, it was some element of creation that stayed in whatever alternate dimension housed demons. It kind of threw itself together to make demons, but it was precise enough to create a single true form that every demon had.

My form was almost like my old self, only with strange body parts.

A more unusual aspect of essence was that it was malleable. I could move it around and change it with some will power.

My first shot at my old self was a lopsided wreck, but I got slightly closer each time I tried. The only draw back to this trait, though, was that holding a different form for too long hurt. Maybe it was just that the essence wanted to go back to where it normally was or something.

It was about this time that I figured out that I had wings, too. I had taken off my shirt to examine myself for more anomalies in a half-broken mirror I found in the dumpster when a raven feather fell on the ground.

Just awesome, right? I wondered what else could possibly happen, but it seemed that that was all of my changes.

It was stupid that I didn't sprout something like claws, but whatever. I could still defend myself.

I learned a bit about planes after that. It was like reality had layers, and I could peel them away. I would explain how I triggered it, but we don't have all day and I don't think you'd understand it. Just know that I could see nine planes, or layers of reality, when I wanted to. I wasn't prepared for it, though.

It floored me when I learned that what we saw everyday was a lie. Demons were _everywhere_. Following people around as pets, chilling on sidewalks or perched in trees, and sometimes growling or talking happily to each other.

There was an entire society that existed right beneath the surface of our own. I was humbled by how limited human perception was.

I watched as a large demon - it looked a lot like a tiger that was made of lava - chased a small, gray gargoyle demon down the street. The little one took off into the air, beating its wings rapidly to rise far above the other. The large one glared at its escaped prey, its tail lashing as the gargoyle flipped the tiger off and zipped away.

_The little one is an imp. Feel free to eat those, _my voice pointed out. _The large one, though, is an afrit. It eats little things like you_.

The lava afrit noticed me and snarled. I didn't know how, but I knew that this guy was _way_ stronger than me. I dropped my ears and tail, staring at the ground while I backed away rapidly. I didn't know why I did that, but I was glad that instinct made me act submissive. The afrit snorted and trotted off, satisfied.

_Stronger demons are the only thing you should submit to. Humans are like little specks of dust compared to you. So they are not worthy of respect. It doesn't matter that you're only half-demonic._

I flicked an ear. _Only half?_

_You didn't think you'd change species entirely, did you? That's stupid._

Little snot. But it seemed relatively harmless. It didn't actually control crap. It just whispered in my ear. I supposed it was safe to go home at the moment, but I wasn't sure if Spike would be able to hear it. My more destructive half would likely love listening to it. So I would have to find a way to turn it off, I supposed.

_And then what? Going to run home? Going to go back to feeling useless and unappreciated? Really?_

I...Well, I didn't want to go back to that, but maybe a few days without me would make them change.

_You're not a moron, so stop thinking like one. You know they won't change._

But...I couldn't just _leave_.

_Why not? You're more superior than them. They're just humans. You don't need them._

I lowered my ears. _I can't just live on the street._

_Why not? You're more than capable of it. There are plenty of imps to eat and places to stay._

_I'm not eating an imp,_ I informed my voice. _That just sounds nasty. And I don't have the money to hole up somewhere._

_Dumpsters, abandoned buildings, apartments that you break into, and other places. There are lots of places to stay when you aren't acting like a spoiled rich kid._

I growled, my fangs bared. I would have to get control of that. _I'm not a spoiled rich kid. Besides, that didn't solve the food problem._

_You're a demon. They don't eat, anyways._

My stomach growled as if protesting. _You said I was only half demonic. So, logically, my human side still needs food._

_So steal it._

Whoa, there. Stealing was a _crime_. I couldn't just _steal _stuff. It was unethical!

_Then starve. Not my concern._

I pinned my ears and dug around in my pockets, producing twenty dollars. I looked at it and sighed a bit. Normally, I carried my wallet, which had around eighty dollars in it.

The one day I decided to leave it on the counter was the day I needed money, damn it.

_Just go home, cut everyone's throats and take your wallet. It's an easy problem to solve._

Okay, so I needed to stretch twenty dollars over the next few days.

_You could always mug your family if they come looking for you._

Crap! I forgot about that! Of _course _they'd come looking for me! They at least cared _that _much about me.

How close were they? Had they tracked me down already? It _had_ been a few hours. I closed my eyes and tried to track Adam and Bree only to find that I couldn't.

My GPS was down at the moment.

Okay, so I could lay low for as long as my system was down. I had until it was back online to figure out how to get rid of the voice thing.

Joy.

But first, I had to lay low so that I wasn't spotted.

_Hello_, my voice huffed. _Dumpsters are everywhere. Just pick one and hide._

_They'll check behind dumpsters_, I retorted, my tail twitching.

_But would they check inside them?_

* * *

><p><em>"I wonder how you say goodbye to someone forever?"<em>

**Ann M. Martin**

* * *

><p><em>"There's a special quality to the loneliness of dusk, a melancholy more brooding even than the night's."<em>

**Ed Gorman, E_verybody's Somebody's Fool (Sam McCain, #5)_**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Leo<strong>_

Mr. Davenport had a look of absolute frustration as he tried again and again to get a lock on Chase's GPS coordinates. Bree and Adam were standing by the couch, obviously antsy. They kept glancing at the door, waiting for Mr. Davenport to give them Chase's location. Tasha was sitting beside Leo on the couch, still a bit dazed.

Leo didn't blame her. He was still trying to wrap his mind around how panicked Chase must have been not to stop when he saw them. What had happened in the Lab was far from the worst accident that had ever occurred.

So what was he running from?

Finally, Mr. Davenport threw his hands up in defeat, slumping back in his chair while he glared at the laptop screen. "His GPS is disabled."

Tasha frowned even deeper. "How?"

"It doesn't matter how," Bree huffed. "We'll just have to search for him."

Leo decided to intervene. "Guys, hold on. When he calms down, he'll probably come home."

Adam frowned this time. "What if he doesn't?"

Mr. Davenport, though, sighed. "You're probably right. We'll give him until this evening to come back home."

Bree started shifting her weight between her feet. "We'll look for him then, right?"

Mr. Davenport nodded.

Leo felt a bit proud of himself for presenting a plan that everyone actually listened to.

His brother would come home. It was home, after all.

However, as minutes turned to hours without a sign of Chase, Leo's confidence started to wane. By the time the sun was setting, Bree and Adam were getting ready to go look for their wayward sibling. Even Leo and his mother were going to be involved in the search with Mr. Davenport, since both groups would be hunting in a different area.

Before they set off, though, Mr. Davenport had grave ground rules. He gathered everyone in the driveway to brief them.

"Everyone needs to be home by midnight, with or without him. Don't inform the police or ask anyone for help. No posters, no signs in windows, no anything that could advertise that Chase is missing. If Krane catches wind that Chase is separated from us, then we just painted a large target on his back. Look everywhere, and - for the love of God - _be discreet."_

* * *

><p><strong>There we are, hunting for Chase.<strong>

**But he's hiding. Shh.**

**Feel free to review. Or don't. Meh.**

**And enjoy.**

***Bows and exits***


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter six is mainly filler.**

**It's kinda just his first night alone.**

**Here it is.**

**So, in preparation for this, I'd like to thank my readers and reviewers. And if anyone could send blankets and towels to the Make Chase's Life Slightly Easier Foundation, we would appreciate it greatly.**

**Mia-Teresa-Davenport: "Ha!"**

**ChaseyLover: He's half snarly, too. :3**

**RissA15: Okay, I dropped the ball on this one. I outsourced the packaging to Oly, and she gave the clone a sword. I don't know where he is, but we're scared to leave the closet.**

**DarkestKing: Little bit of both.**

**So let's do it. Bree?**

**"Zara doesn't own Lab Rats or anything you recognize. If you don't recognize it, it's probably hers."**

* * *

><p><em>"All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way."<em>

**Leo Tolstoy, **_**Anna Karenina**_

* * *

><p><em>"One day you will do things for me that you hate. That is what it means to be family."<em>

**Jonathan Safran Foer, _Everything Is Illuminated_**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Bree<strong>_

They had been searching for two hours.

_Two hours._

At night, when they had to keep an eye out for shady individuals.

And, to top it all off, a thunderstorm had decided to pay Mission Creek a visit, so it rolled in about ten minutes earlier.

Bree was quickly becoming annoyed instead of concerned. Chase _never _missed curfew when he was out alone. He needed someone with just as much to lose urging him to break it. The one night he decided to be rebellious, Mr. Davenport had them searching high and low for him.

Bree jumped a bit at a surprisingly loud crack of thunder before scowling. Stupid storm. Why couldn't it rain somewhere else? Just until they found Chase. After that, the floodgates of Hell could open. It wouldn't matter because they would be at home, dry and warm in their capsules.

A particularly hard gust of wind whipped at Bree's soaked shirt as lightning arced across the sky for a split second.

"This has to suck for Chase," Adam suddenly commented, reminding her that he was there.

Bree frowned, raising her voice to be heard above the storm. "Why?"

Adam pointed at his ears. "The thunder."

As if agreeing, thunder rolled not a split second later. Bree nodded, feeling a bit guilty that she had forgotten about Chase's sensitive hearing. "Think he holed up somewhere?"

"Or showed up at home after we left," Adam noted, shrugging while he moved the flashlight he held to point down an alley. "Chasey," he called, cupping one hand around his mouth to make his voice louder than the storm while they Bree added the beam of her flashlight to the darkness of the alley. The light revealed nothing but litter that was flying through the air and a dumpster with one lid propped open by a can that got wedged between the lid and the bin. How it hadn't flown completely open in the wind was a mystery.

When no one answered, Bree sighed, moving into the alley to search it. Chase probably wouldn't be able to hear them due to the storm overloading his hearing, so she hadn't expected a response. She and Adam searched all the shadows, hoping to see Chase curled up in a ball with his hands pressed to his ears.

Not that she wanted to see Chase in pain. She just wanted to bring him home.

Adam touched her shoulder. "He's not here."

Bree sighed and nodded. To the next alley, then. And hopefully Chase would be in it. Or at home, holed up in the safety and warmth of the soundproof Lab.

* * *

><p>"<em>Nothing in life is to be feared, it is only to be understood. Now is the time to understand more, so that we may fear less."<em>

**Marie Curie**

* * *

><p>"<em>I cut an inch off of every straw I see, just to make the world suck a little less."<em>

**Jarod Kintz, _This Book Has No Title_**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chase<strong>_

I was curled up in a ball, tears streaking down my cheeks as I covered my ears. Thunder cracked loudly, echoing through the dumpster and making me whimper in pain. It felt like a lance was tearing through my skull. The burning in my nostrils from the scents in the dumpster, making everything worse. The assault on my senses was only slightly eased by the rain-scented air that the wind blew into the dumpster via the lid that I propped open with a can. I tried to keep most of the rain out by tying trash bags to the inside of the lid and tethering it to the hook on the inside of the dumpster. It didn't work, though, because enough rain was getting into the dumpster that I was soaked.

About an hour ago, my stomach started growling, too. Way to top it off, right? I guess a corn dog and a bottle of water from a gas station wasn't filling. Wasn't healthy, either, but I had to make twenty bucks last.

So I was cold.

I was hungry.

I was in pain.

And I just wanted to go home.

_Oh, take over the house! Or burn it down with everyone inside. You know: Your choice_.

I could do this.

I flinched, almost crying out when thunder sounded again. I couldn't hear anything but the storm. I wanted to curl up in my capsule, safe from the sound of nature's wrath.

I only had to make it a few more days. I only had to make it a few more days.

I could do it. I _had_ to.

* * *

><p><strong>See? Not that great.<strong>

**But it's progress, so yay.**

**Next chapter is interesting, I swear!**

**So, until next time, feel free to review. Or not. Meh.**

**And enjoy.**

***Bows and exits***


	7. Chapter 7

**Merry Christmas.**

**Happy Hanukkah.**

**Happy Kwanza.**

**Happy Yule.**

**Happy whatever. :3**

**I was going to update yesterday, but I have a head cold and an alcoholic home remedy knocked my ass out before I could, so here it is now. :3**

**I would like to say thanks to my patient readers and reviewers and say that Chase is starting his trip tod****ay.**

**Also, Chase is happily snuggling amid a sea of blankets and towels. He says thanks.**

**Chaseylover: "Any donation is greatly appreciated. :3"**

**Anna Davenport: He'll be fine.**

**Mia-Teresa-Davenport: "That was awesome."**

**AllAmericanSlurp: "Oh, I know why you used that abbreviation! I wanna annoy Zara, too! Let me help!"**

**RissA15: I don't mean to undercredit myself. I just lack the ability to feel feels, so any chapter with them I always worry about because I can't tell if I got it across or not. And come tranq' your damn clone!**

**So let's do this! Voice?**

**_"Zara doesn't own Lab Rats or anything you recognize. If you don't recognize it, it's probably hers."_**

* * *

><p>"...<em>Feel the poison now slipping through my skin. I'm not giving up, but I'm giving in to my darker side - to my every sin - so I can fight again..."<em>

**We The Kings, "Any Other Way" (The Homeless Theme Song, if you like envisioning things with music. It had a hand in prompting me to write this.)**

* * *

><p><em>"...Blood in the house, blood on the street; the worst things in the world are justified by belief...Raised by wolves, stronger than fear..."<em>

**U2, "Raised by Wolves"**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chase<strong>_

They weren't looking for me.

I had long given up on my GPS turning back on. I guessed the shock from the portal destroyed it. However, even with what would be a minor setback like that, I hadn't seen a single trace of them. No passing glances of a search party, no missing person bulletin, no _nothing_.

_See? They wanted you gone this whole time._

As much as that statement hurt, I was inclined to believe it at this point. It had been a week, and _still_ nothing. I only had $1.33 to my name, was filthy and hungry, and had a family that didn't care enough to try and hunt me down.

_Do you still want to go back home?_

I pinned my ears. I didn't see what choice I had. I was broke and smelled like every dumpster I've crashed in at night. I had to do something fast.

_There's a beach nearby with showers, yet you have this problem?_

_That "nearby" beach is a day's drive, and I don't have a car, _I reminded my voice. We had had this discussion before.

_Then fly there,_ my voice huffed. _You have wings. Use them!_

I pinned my ears. I didn't want to practice flying only to have someone see me or worse. If I came crashing down from above in town, Mr. Davenport would hear and drag me home to the family that didn't care that I was missing.

_Then figure something out, genius!_

I rolled my eyes. The voice was an irritating douche, but I had to admit that it was kind of nice to have someone to talk to. However, it was right. I made myself look human before stepping into the open street. First things first: I needed money.

Which meant that I had to steal or beg.

I was stuck between morals and pride in this situation, neither of which I wanted to give up. However, I was a bit more willing to demean myself than steal from others. Therefore, I approached an older woman, feeling myself blush shamefully. It was a good thing, too, because shame tended to drum up sympathy. "Excuse me, Ma'am," I began, "but I was wondering - and I hate to ask - but if you could find it in your heart to -"

"I'm not going to give you money, delinquent," the woman huffed, wrinkling her nose.

"Just a quarter or two," I desperately begged. "Just enough to-"

"Get out of here before I call the cops," she snapped, walking away.

_Snap her neck! Disrespectful wretch!_

I sighed heavily. This might be harder than I thought.

I walked back into the alley I considered my temporary home to rethink my strategy. Maybe I had to lie, like every con artist did.

I wasn't a con artist, though. So why should I have to lie?

Someone cleared their throat behind me. I whipped around only to see someone not much older than I. "You have to help!" He begged. "Come on! Hurry!" He brushed past me and bolted further into the alley, hooking a corner.

I frowned and started after him, concerned. Run away or not, I was still a hero, right? I'd help in any way I could.

_You're a moron,_ my voice admonished as I followed the guy deeper into the alley.

I ground my teeth. _How so?_

_It's not your problem, _it huffed. _If it's a problem at all, that is._

I turned a corner that the kid vanished around only to see it blocked off by a fence at the other end. The kid was standing near it, beckoning me eagerly. A sudden feeling of apprehension overtook me. The only escape was the way I came in. This dead end was a bad place to be caught.

_I don't like this, _I thought, slowly moving towards the kid.

_I didn't like it some time ago, _my voice huffed.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes as I got closer to the kid. When I was beside him, he pointed at something. I followed his finger only to gasp. On the ground was a man, blood drying around him from a massive wound on his head. My hands started shaking as a strange, disgusting scent his my nostrils.

_Death_, my voice explained. _That scent is death._

The guy was dead? I swallowed hard and nodded towards the body. "Was he a friend of yours?"

The kid shrugged. "No. Just an idiot who followed a stranger into an alley." He looked at me, bending over to pick up a small board. "Sound familiar?"

_I warned you, moron._

When he swung the board at me, my training kicked in. I caught the board with my hands and kicked the guy in the stomach. When he recoiled, I pulled the board as hard as I could, disarming him. The last guy may not have known what he was doing, but I sure did. Now the kid wasn't a threat.

_He's still a threat, _my voice contradicted. _He'll just find another victim._

I grudgingly acknowledged the validity of that statement as the moron recovered enough to charge me. I swung the board low, catching him in the shins. When he went down, something in me - something I didn't even know I had - made me bring the board down over his head before he could get up. The kid collapsed, out cold as I dropped the board. I hadn't hit him hard enough to kill him, but he was no longer a threat to me.

What did I just do?!

_You showed him that you're not someone to be messed with. Isn't it nice to prove that you're not useless?_

It _was _nice. I had hurt someone, but now they knew that I was stronger than them. He might be one kid, but at least he knew that I was capable of taking care of myself without my family.

It was surprisingly _exhilarating_. It made me feel stronger than I ever had before. A giggle bubbled up from my chest. I felt _alive!_

_Now steal the money in his pockets._

Wait, what?

_He tried to kill you. The least he can do is buy you dinner._

I sighed, hesitating. Stealing was wrong, even if it was from a criminal.

_You could try the begging thing again._

I crouched down, hating myself as I started rummaging through his pockets. He didn't have much - a bit over thirty bucks - but to me, it was a freaking life saver. I could get to the beach on the bus with thirty dollars!

I stood up and kicked the kid before running back the way I came, clutching my prize. Maybe there was something to this criminal thing.

* * *

><p><strong>There we have it. Chapter Seven.<strong>

**We'll be visiting everyone else next time.**

**So, until then, feel free to review. Or don't. Whatever.**

**And enjoy.**

***Bows and Exits***


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight!**

***fireworks***

**More of Chase being difficult, all right.**

**Before that, though, thank you.**

**By now, you know who you are. I say it every time.**

**AllAmericanSlurp: He's not fond of it.**

**RissA15: You and You got the clone, but Oly kept one of their hands. That cool?**

**Mia-Teresa-Davenport: "Lighten up."**

**ChaseyLover: Ack! Everyone's getting a cold!**

**(Trilogy order is Hybrid, Hunter, and Haunted. Just in case. :3)**

**gg180000: I laughed too hard at this.**

**So let's get to the story. Mr. Davenport?**

**"Zara doesn't own Lab Rats or anything you recognize. If you don't recognize it, it's probably hers."**

* * *

><p>"<em>Thinking something does not make it true. Wanting something does not make it real."<em>

**Michelle Hodkin, _The Unbecoming of Mara Dyer (Mara Dyer, #1)_**

* * *

><p>"<em>How many legs does a dog have if you call the tail a leg? Four. Calling a tail a leg doesn't make it a leg."<em>

**Abraham Lincoln**

* * *

><p><strong><em>Adam<em>**

A week had passed, and there was still no sign of Chase.

Adam and Bree had been searching almost nonstop since the first night. They were both tired, having foregone sleep for searching. Honestly, they had gotten maybe three hours of sleep between them the past few days. Adam's vision was blurry, and Bree could barely pay attention. Each step was a momentous effort, and just standing upright was a challenge.

But they had to find Chase. While he was out there, likely scared, hungry and lonely, Adam refused to rest.

It was probably why Mr. Davenport had locked both Adam and Bree in their capsules.

Mr. Davenport was standing at the cyber desk, his arms crossed stubbornly. "Guys, you have to _sleep_."

"But Chase is still out there," Bree protested.

"Yeah, Mr. Davenport," Adam backed up. "We have to find him."

"You're killing yourselves!" Mr. Davenport countered, throwing his hand up in frustration. "Yes, he's out there, but you two still need to take care of yourselves. That means the search is suspended-"

"You can't do that!" Adam interrupted, pressing his hands against the capsule glass.

"Just because _you_ can't do anything doesn't mean that _we _should stop," Bree added.

Mr. Davenport raised his eyebrows. "Let me _finish_. The search is suspended until you sleep and eat something. And I don't mean a power nap. I mean totally dead to the world asleep."

"That's wasting time," Bree muttered. "I was going to search bus stops today."

"Search your dreams," Mr. Davenport responded. "You're no good to him if you kill yourselves looking."

"But Mr. Davenport-"

"That's enough, Bree," Mr. Davenport interrupted. "Both of you are staying in there until you sleep. I'll keep working on his GPS. I'll wake you up if anything happens, okay?"

Reluctantly, Adam crossed his arms with a huff. "Fine, but I'm not going to sleep tight. And I'm going to be bitten by *so* many bed bugs."

Mr. Davenport rolled his eyes. "Good night, guys." He then turned around and strode out of the Lab, pressing a few buttons on a wall console to turn out the lights before he left.

Bree was asleep in seconds, surprisingly. She was out before the elevator doors closed behind Mr. Davenport. Adam, on the other hand, didn't find it so easy. His thoughts were on his wayward brother, who probably hadn't slept all that well himself over the past week.

Why should Adam get a good night's sleep when Chase didn't? It just didn't seem fair.

More than that, though, was the confusion on the matter of the past week: Why had Chase stayed away? Was he scared to come home for some reason? Was he in trouble? Was he _hurt? _ Did Krane find him first?

Adam panicked for a moment before calming down a bit. If Krane killed Chase, then he would have sent some kind of sign to gloat, right? Something that would tear them apart and make them weaker targets.

With this very meager reassurance, Adam clung to the idea that Chase was still alive.

Then why hadn't he come home?

Did...did he just not want to?

_That's stupid,_ Adam thought instantly. _Why would he want to run away?_

It wasn't like he had a bad life. He had all the strange little things in the Lab that he liked to mess with. He had all the homework he could possibly want to do when he felt like geeking out. And he had a family that loved him to death.

What wasn't to love about his life?

For some reason, Adam's mind brought up a memory of him throwing Chase across the room. For Adam, it had been fun. He had almost cleared the counter that time. However, examining Chase's reaction...

Adam was the only one having fun.

Frowning, Adam folded his arms. More memories cropped up - using Chase as exercise equipment, cleaning supplies for toilets and counters, an actual bowling ball at one point - and, each time, Adam finally studied Chase's reaction through all of it.

Adam didn't possess words strong enough to describe Chase's expressions, but Adam did realize one thing.

Adam wouldn't come home to that, either.

* * *

><p>"<em>That's the thing about being a victim; you start to think it'll happen to you on a regular basis. It's living with the reality of your own vulnerability, and it sucks."<em>

**Dennis Lehane, _A Drink Before the War (Kenzie & Gennaro, #1)_**

* * *

><p>"<em>It is not the strongest or the most intelligent who will survive but those who can best manage change."<em>

**Charles Darwin**

* * *

><p><strong><em>Chase<em>**

You never know how much you appreciate running water until you don't have access to it. Even if it's just cold water, it's absolutely amazing.

I was so excited by the showers at the beach that I was almost escorted away. Something about cupping your hands and drinking the water for five straight minutes before snapping at it with your teeth because instinct made it fun bothered people, I guess. In hindsight, it was a tad animalistic, but whatever. However, what came next made me feel quite guilty. I hid behind the showers, waited for someone to get in, and dove for their possessions while they were distracted. Most people were smart enough to have someone watching their possessions or had rented a locker. However, one in every twenty-five or so were either too stupid or too brave to protect their things.

So their things suddenly belonged to me.

I took important things: Money (I always left them a bit so that their day wasn't entirely ruined), towels, and any food I found. I even lifted some poor guy's clothes because they were my size. I was hoping for a blanket, but I would just make do with my findings. I kept my treasures in a plastic shopping bag I found, allowing me to bury them behind the showers in the sand.

I kept this up from morning until late afternoon, sometimes being shooed away from possessions when I wasn't fast enough. When someone reported a thief near the showers, all security found was a stray cat taking a nap in the shade. The shape shifting thing was extremely useful, to be honest. It was awesome.

However, as the sun started its downward trail in the west, I finally called it a day. I had gotten about fifty dollars, so I had enough to actually eat something less disgusting. Sure, it was still just some fruit and water, but it was so much better than gas station corn dogs that I felt like a freaking king. And, as a bonus, I managed to take refuge in the changing rooms before they were locked, allowing me some serious respite from the chilling night wind that was blowing in off the ocean. I had a nest of towels to curl up in, covering myself with a few spares to stay warm. I might have been in a building, but a few holes ran along the top of the building to keep the air from stagnating, which meant that it was still a bit cold.

I pulled my wings close to me, hugging my knees to generate warmth. _Well, this is better than a dumpster,_ I noted.

D_on't get comfortable,_ my voice warned. _Someone's gonna catch you eventually, and you'll have to go somewhere else._

I pinned my ears. Until I was evicted, I would be counting my blessings. I had food, a temporary shelter, and, as bad as it sounded, freedom from a family that didn't seem to care. It didn't matter that I wanted to keep them safe. They didn't care.

Staying out here had to be better than staying where I wasn't wanted. It had to be.

* * *

><p><strong>There it is. Chapter eight.<strong>

**Not much fun, but there you go.**

**So, until we return to visit Chase, feel free to review. Or don't. Whatever.**

**And enjoy.**

***Bows and exits***


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine is kinda short, but it's here, and I don't feel like talking much.**

**So thank you, various readers and reviewers.**

**Mia-Teresa-Davenport: *rolls his eyes***

**AllAmericanSlurp: I have an incredibly long rant about this, but I'm not doing it in public, so here's the short version: Don't bother me with another quiz like that. The various details of an archive as opposed to the subject matter it covers is pointless to me.**

**Gg180000: ...Did you even read the trilogy...?**

**RissA15:...Douglas shot them...Sorry...**

**ChaseyLover: Holy crap, everyone read the quote in this review."**

**So let's do this. Leo?**

**"Zara doesn't own Lab Rats or anything you recognize. If you don't recognize it, it's probably hers."**

* * *

><p><em>"If theft is advantageous to everyone who succeeds at it, and adultery is a good strategy, at least for males, for increasing presence in the gene pool, why do we feel they are wrong? Shouldn't the only morality that evolution produces be the kind Bill Clinton had - being sorry you got caught?"<em>

**Robert J. Sawyer, _Calculating God_**

* * *

><p><em>"The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page."<em>

**Augustine of Hippo**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chase<strong>_

It took all of two days before my income started to dry up. Signs started appearing around the buildings on the beach, warning against thieves. My one in twenty-five average quickly became one in fifty, meaning I was steadily running out of money. Security was patrolling more often, people were locking up up their things, and everyone was starting to regard the constant presence of a homeless kid at suspicious.

I was counting the leftover money I had for the twentieth time, sighing. Maybe I could leave town with it. Head north or something and see snow when it wasn't trying to kill me with avalanches. Besides, big cites tended to have more targets and places to hide, right? And homeless shelters. Lots of homeless shelters. It would suck less than dumpsters. However, I needed just enough to survive until I could scope out targets.

Which meant that I was trying to get as much money as I could off of the slim pickings in the area.

It was much harder just to get to people's things, much less take it before I got caught. I had only gotten about ten dollars in five hours, and it was quite frustrating. Why couldn't people leave their money out? I was starving here!

_Then go for something you can pawn._

I sat behind the showers, my ears pinned. _Like what?_

_Jewelry! Steal jewelry!_

_Who has jewelry at the beach?_ I huffed.

_Morons_, my voice answered. _They deserve to lose their jewels. You're more important than them._

That was how I ended up in a pawn shop a short distance from the beach, guiltily exchanging wedding bands, charm bracelets and plain necklaces for an extra fifty dollars. I didn't steal any silver - my hand still had the fading remnants of my last encounter with that painful metal - but it was enough to get me another bus ticket. Not on a city bus, either. No, I was traveling on a freaking Greyhound bus. It stopped every few hours so that I could hide in the bathroom and turn back into my demonic self for a moment to alleviate my shape-shifting pain, so it was the best I could do.

I still didn't like it. Compared to Mr. Davenport's various private transports, it was a bit mundane. But beggars couldn't be choosers, so I was headed north towards Seattle on a Greyhound. The young couple I was sitting by were nice enough, I supposed. They never shut up about how the Seattle trip was their honeymoon, but I could survive. They seemed like nice people, if not irritating.

Wait, did someone ask why I was going to Seattle? Easy. One can disappear in a big city, and I always wanted to travel. Might as well start in Washington State, right?

But Chase, don't people go to small towns to disappear?

If they're stupid, yes. See, small towns have tight-knit communities. If a stranger moves in, everyone talks. However, it's easy to get lost in a crowd when the city's too big for everyone to care.

More importantly, no one in my family would suspect that I went north. They couldn't bring me home to be thrown over counters, and that little voice in my head couldn't make me hurt them. Two wins, am I right?

* * *

><p>"<em>There are wounds that never show on the body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds."<em>

**Laurell K. Hamilton, _Mistral's Kiss (Merry Gentry, #5)_**

* * *

><p><em>"I can't eat and I can't sleep. I'm not doing well in terms of being a functional human, you know<em>?"

**Ned Vizzini_, It's Kind of a Funny Story_**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Leo<strong>_

Watching Mr. Davenport work to reinstate Chase's GPS day in and day out was starting to become frustrating. Bree and Adam had given up the search, only going out about an hour every day now instead of running themselves into the ground. Adam had drawn into himself a bit, actually moping around the house. It took Leo all of a day to figure out that Adam had started to blame himself for this. He would hide down in the Lab, sitting in Chase's capsule and just staring at the wall. It was depressing to watch, but Leo couldn't do anything to help.

It was hard to save someone from themselves, you know?

Meanwhile, Tasha was the only one trying to boost morale anymore. Day in, day out, she would say that they'd find Chase. She patted shoulders and rubbed backs, reassuring everyone that Chase would wander back eventually. She sometimes even made everyone take a break, sending Mr. Davenport to the store for something or making cookies for Adam, Bree and Leo to snack on when they were down. However, her tired eyes contradicted her endless optimism.

She was just as afraid that Chase was gone for good as everyone else.

The general household atmosphere was tense and melancholic due to this. Even the ray of sunshine that was Tasha was worried that her second-youngest was gone. Adam was moping around the Lab all the time while Mr. Davenport worked tirelessly on tracking Chase. That left Leo and Bree to hang out together, but even that was a bit of a bust. Bree didn't ever want to talk about anything, and she never wanted to socialize anymore. Owen had been blown off on more than one occasion, and even text messages went ignored.

Leo sighed. His best friend was gone, and now his family was falling apart. What else could go wrong?

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Nine.<strong>

**Chase is going to Seattle! Woo!**

**So until next time, feel free to review. Or don't. Whatever.**

**And enjoy.**

***Bows and exits***


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter ten is less filling than the last one.**

**Kinda.**

**Hellcat is in Seattle. Let's just roll with it.**

**So, before we begin, I'd like to thank the various readers and reviewers who, for some reason, like to come back to this story. :P**

**gg180000: Probably not...**

**RissA15: This actually made me get a bluetooth keyboard that I don't regret. Wondering how I survived without it now.**

**ChaseyLover: Where are you finding all these quotes?**

**Mia-Teresa-Davenport: *facepalm***

**AllAmericanSlurp: They would have. That's why he stole the jewelry and pawned it off instead of opening a pawn shop.**

**So, let's do this! Yahn?**

**"Zara doesn't own Lab Rats or anything you recognize. If you don't recognize it, it's probably hers."**

* * *

><p><em>"...The key thing about good and evil: Each man has to choose. Heaven and Hell is a hell of a gamble to lose..."<em>

**Jekyll and Hyde: The Musical, "Good N' Evil"**

* * *

><p><em>"And just when I though things were starting to get better, everything had gone wrong again."<em>

**Rachel Ward, _Numbers (Numbers, #1)_**

* * *

><p><strong><em>Chase<em>**

I made a bit of a miscalculation.

Seattle was an all right city, I supposed.

If it wasn't _cloudy_ all the damn time!

The weather situation was just sad. Even though it wasn't raining most of the time, it was still dark and depressing. It gave the whole city a gray appearance.

It was so dreary. I couldn't begin to imagine what made people want to live there. It was upsetting. It was dark and horrible. I wasn't particularly fond of it. It brought me down. I think that I had only seen the sun a few times since arriving. It was supposedly very nice in the summer, but right now was just downright depressing.

Aside from the weather situation, though, Seattle had a bit of a consolation prize: More targets.

I hated how I had started to refer to everything and everyone as a target. It made me feel like a common pick-pocket. Actually, I kinda _was_ a criminal now, I guessed. It was justified, though! I had to eat, right? Surely I couldn't be judged too harshly for that.

However, I knew that I would still be punished if I was caught. Police department everywhere had a job to do, and that included arresting thieves like me. It didn't matter that I was trying to survive. The law was the law, right? So it made me feel like a dirty criminal to even consider doing what I was about to do.

I was about to shoplift.

Honestly, I was more nervous than when I stole from unsuspecting people's possessions. This place had employees and security guards, but I was still determined to make this work. I needed some clean clothing. Mine had dirt stains and a few tears in them. It wouldn't be so bad if they didn't _smell_.

And don't you comment on it, either! I could wash in a sink in the homeless shelters, but I didn't have any way to wash the clothes on my back, so shut up. I couldn't help it.

The whole problem with this, though, was that everyone was now keeping an eye on the homeless drifter that was wandering around the store. See, to them, there was no way that I could afford a chocolate bar by the register, much less some clothing. I was having to duck and weave around the store, avoiding various tails that were on my...well, tail. Not that they could _see_ my tail, but whatever. I was having enough trouble without worrying about them figuring out that I was a demon.

Not that they could see me. I looked like a human until the third or fourth plane.

I ducked around another turn as a manager decided to follow me, escaping him for a few moments. He would follow me at a distance to avoid arousing my suspicion - not that he hadn't already - which gave me some time to move freely. It was an incredibly tense situation, and I hated it. I wiped my palms on my pants - they were sweating like crazy - and quickly ducked behind a shelf to change my shirt for one that looked almost identical. It wouldn't do to make it obvious that I was stealing, right? I glanced around and stuffed my old shirt under a pile of clothing before I tore the tag off of the shirt, wincing.

God, this was hard.

_Who cares? This place has enough money, anyways._

I rolled my eyes at the statement. _That still doesn't make it right._

_You're too great to debate right or wrong_, my voice snorted. _You're main focus should be yourself. Do what makes you happy. Do whatever you want. If you want to break a window, break a window. If you want to light something on fire, burn it up. If you want to create an army of human minions, go for it. Screw this right and wrong bullshit. It doesn't apply to you. You don't exist in this society anymore._

_Obeying the law makes me happy, _I huffed back cheekily, smiling innocently at another employee before ducking around a corner and changed my pants rapidly. _It's what keeps order, and I enjoy things having order._

_Adhering to order is for the weak and cowardly. Creating order is for the strong and the great who are forced to deal with weakness. Make your own order. Others might think it's chaos, but who cares? If it makes sense to you, they don't have to understand it._

This was quickly becoming an irritating conversation. I ground my teeth while putting on new socks and wiggling my toes happily. _Are you suggesting that I take over the world?_

_Destroy the world and make a new one._

How about no? I smiled at yet another employee before casually looking around. I meandered towards the exit, ready to get the hell out of there. The hard part was over, right? All I had to do was escape.

That was where it all went wrong.

At the door, a security guard held up his hand, standing in front of me to block my exit. I stopped, backing away slightly. "Can I help you?"

"Just show me your receipt," the man requested, holding his hand out.

I frowned and shrugged. "I didn't buy anything. Nothing I wanted to buy."

"So you don't have anything that doesn't belong to you," the guard said, raising his eyebrow as a couple of actual officers entered, walking up to us.

I swallowed hard and shook my head. "Nothing that isn't mine."

"That's why there's a price tag on your jeans, right?"

...Oops.

* * *

><p><em>"...Their heart grew cold; they let their wings down..."<em>

**Sappho,_ If Not, Winter: Fragments of Sappho_**

* * *

><p><em>"A void in my chest was beginning to fill with anger. Quiet, defeated anger that guaranteed me the right to my hurt, that believed no one could possibly understand that hurt."<em>

**Rachel Sontag, _House Rules_**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Bree<strong>_

The search parties were over.

It had been too long. And while others may note that three weeks wasn't long at all, Bree reasoned that it was very likely that she would never see Chase again. If he was going to come back, he would have by now. Not to mention the fruitless searching around town that just made her more frustrated and depressed each time it failed.

It was like Chase had dropped off the face of the earth.

Hopefully, he was at least somewhere _safe_. If he _had_ run away, she wanted him to be as comfortable as possible until he decided that it was okay to return.

_If_ he ever returned.

Bree sat on the couch beside Adam, both of them silent. They had reluctantly agreed that searching endlessly for Chase wasn't doing anybody any favors. It wore down resolve and created pessimism that just grew each time they returned home without their little brother.

It wasn't fair.

Leo and Mr. Davenport had started working together on the broken signal from Chase's GPS, both growing increasingly more hopeless as the days wore on. It wasn't fair to them that their hard work was producing nothing.

It wasn't _fair_.

And, possibly worse than the other scenarios was Tasha's, who could literally do nothing. She could only stand by and watch as the family ran itself into the ground to become whole again.

_It wasn't fair!_

After everything they had been through together, he couldn't just _leave_. What was wrong with him? Didn't they matter at all? How could he walk away from his family like that?

Because of this thought process, an undercurrent of anger had festered up under her depression. The idea that Chase thought so little of them that he would easily just leave and stay away made her grind her teeth. It made her blood boil a bit at night when she thought about it. Chase had abandoned them. They were nothing to him. It was infuriating.

Bree wanted to punch a wall and imagine it was Chase. Stupid runt. If he didn't want to come home - if he didn't care at all - then did they even want him back.

After several enraged moments in which she denied ever wanting to see him again, she finally calmed enough to know that she was lying to herself.

She wanted her little brother back, no matter how much he hated them.

* * *

><p><em>"Arrogance is in everything I do. It is in my gestures, the harshness of my voice, in the glow of my gaze, in my sinewy, tormented face."<em>

**Coco Chanel**

* * *

><p><em>"Why had his mother gone to the trouble of bringing him into the world if the most exciting moment in his life was having been made lame by a bayonet?"<em>

**Félix J. Palma, _The Map of Time (Trilogía Victoriana, #1)_**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Douglas<strong>_

"Oly, for Christ's sake, get the hell out of the cabinets!"

Douglas glared at the little gargoyle as she flinched and hopped out of the cabinet, knocking a few cans of vegetables over with her gray wings and muttering about how much of a buzzkill Douglas was. He picked up a pen and threw it at her, hitting her beak. _There_, he thought. _Let her whine about_ that.

While Oly rubbed her beak - more for show than out of pain - Yahn tapped the screen of Douglas' laptop, tilting his grey head. "Why are we watching this, again?"

Douglas rubbed Yahn's head. It had taken him a few weeks to tell Oly and Yahn apart by sight - they were basically twins - but he was glad their personalities were different. It made it easier to keep track of who did what. If someone cleaned something, it was Yahn. If something was broken, it was Oly. Douglas gestured at the computer. "Because I like seeing what my kids are up to," he answered. Eddy was still easy to hack, so Douglas had taken the liberty of watching the footage from the security system. He had been watching two weeks' worth of video so far - sped up a bit, of course - and was just now starting on a third week. He'd missed nearly two months while trying to find a place to stay after Krane kicked him out. It was time to catch up.

Even if it was a bit boring to watch Chase mess with an old invention Douglas had made with Donnie back in college. The kid was in for a disappointing day - the machine had never worked, and Douglas was undoubtedly a better inventor than Chase - but whatever made him happy made him happy, Douglas supposed. Let him tinker with-

The thing flicked to life.

Douglas sat up straight, his eyes wide as he watched Chase's arm disappear into the portal instead of sticking out the other side. How in the hell did he _do_ that? Douglas and Donald had spent months on that thing! What gives?

Douglas watched the rest of the scene unfold, pausing it when Chase landed a good five feet from the device, obviously unconscious. What just happened?

Oly's weight on his shoulder snagged his attention as she pointed at the screen. "Who's that half-breed?"

"Half-Breed?" Douglas echoed, frowning.

"Yeah," Oly huffed, rolling her eyes at having to explain herself. "He's not a full demon. Just half of one. It's gross."

"So...he could be summoned?" Douglas asked, playing the video again and watching as Chase woke up and fled.

On the table, Yahn shrugged. "If you figured out his name, sure."

Douglas grinned. Finally, he could use summoning to get at least _one_ of his kids back.

* * *

><p><strong>Enter Dougie!<strong>

**What's gonna happen now that Hellcat's going to jail?**

**Guess we'll have to wait to find out.**

**So, until then, feel free to review. Or don't. Whatever.**

**And, of course, enjoy.**

***Bows and exits***


	11. Chapter 11

**It took a while to write it out, but here's chapter eleven! Finally, right?**

**Anywho, like I said, here it is.**

**So thank you, patient minions. :3**

**Mia-Teresa-Davenport: "Ha! I remember him! :3 Fun day."**

**ChaseyLover: See, number 6 was what I was suspecting.**

**gg180000: We already knew that Dougie was a creepy guy. :P**

**So, anyways, let's read. Chase?**

**"Zara doesn't own Lab Rats or anything you recognize. If you don't recognize it, it's probably hers."**

* * *

><p><em>"...Hey, I keep on thinking that it's...all done and all over now...You keep on thinking you can save me...My ship is sinking but it's...all good, and I can go down...Say what you want, but you're not gonna win this time..."<em>

**Seether, "Country Song"**

* * *

><p><em>"...Will you walk the line, like it's there to choose...Won't you follow me into the jungle? Ain't no God on these streets..."<em>

**X Ambassadors and Jamie N Commons, "Jungle"**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chase<strong>_

Did you know that they handcuff you to chairs in jail?

They handcuff you to chairs in jail.

I found myself handcuffed to a chair between a guy that looked like he had more tattoo than skin - I was grateful that my own dark marks had almost faded by now - and a woman who decided that four in the afternoon was the perfect time to shoot meth and drive. Add that to a room full of loud, angry, and terrified people in police custody in the room with me - and a voice that wanted me to just turn into a mouse and run away - and I was actually quite scared.

Guards were everywhere, armed with everything needed to take down a freaking mob. _Police are your friend,_ Mr. Davenport had always said. _Just don't tell them you're bionic._

Well, Mr. Davenport, these officers were terrifying when you're on the other side of the law. Where was your wisdom now, huh?

_Why are you even still in here? Just slip from the cuffs and go,_ my voice huffed for the hundredth time.

An officer's eyes fell on me at that moment. Coincidence? Absolutely. I still sank down in my chair, waiting for the time when my name would be called. When that happened, I would be taken back to the holding cells. I could handle a few cellmates over the obnoxious room filled with deafening voices and even stronger odors. I _hated_ it in there.

_I hated it, I hated it, I hated it!_

"Chase Davenport."

The officer's voice pulled me back to reality, and I jumped up so fast that a second officer actually put her hand on her taser in case I was about to start something. I apologized quickly, almost wincing when she didn't take her hard gaze off of me while she released my handcuffs.

Jesus, her eyes were piercing. Sorry I stole! I wouldn't do it again, I _promised._

She nudged me in the direction of the officer who called my name. I followed him into the next room, where he lead me to the last cell and held open the door. I tried not to look at him as I shuffled inside, noting rapidly that I was alone. Lucky me: No cell mate! Maybe it was because I was a minor. I didn't know. I didn't question it, either. If I was alone, no one could see how much I was trembling.

Jail was terrifying.

The cell door closed behind me, the loud clang making me jump before the lock clicked. I watched the officer leave, my hands wrapped around the bars like a dog with his nose pressed to the cage bars in the pound. It was horrifying to me. I hated it. I was caged like a wild animal.

I supposed I was, actually. Demons weren't exactly human. I guessed that I kind of was a monster. Monsters need to be locked up, right? If my voice was telling me to take over the world, the safest place for me was far, far away from society.

I guessed jail wasn't so bad. Free meals, a bed to sleep in, and general hygiene. It was like a motel with bars. At the very least, it was better than the streets. However, I had given them my name, meaning that they were likely going to find Mr. Davenport at some point. It would've been nice to take it easy for a few days, but I would be sent home at some point.

Between the psychotic voice that threatened to hurt my family and the persistent ridicule I'd have to deal with again, I wasn't keen on the idea.

_Then escape,_ my voice hissed. _That's the only other option here._

_I don't want an arrest warrant!_ I responded. _I don't want anything remotely traceable attached to me._

_Who cares? Just leave Seattle._

That took money, and I had none at the moment. Hell, I had eaten maybe once over the past three days, and that was just a granola bar I'd snagged from someone's purse. People in the city were more guarded about their money, I supposed. It was just the way they were.

I scratched at my side, fidgeting a bit to maybe relieve the dull throbbing that had started from me holding a different form for too long. I couldn't just run. I would make the problem worse. So I had to free myself *and* clear my name.

I wondered if my molecularkinesis still worked.

I glared at the lock, flicking my finger. A small click signaled my success. I hesitated, waiting to see if a guard was around before I made my move. When the coast was clear, I slipped out of my cell.

* * *

><p>It took two hours for chaos to ensue.<p>

Where was the video? The footage was corrupted! How!?

Where were the articles of clothing I was trying to steal? Were they destroyed in the fire that had somehow flared up in the evidence room?

Why was the cell door for that weird kid unlocked? Well, that was because I had forgotten to lock it back when I returned, but whatever. They reasoned that I didn't know it was open since I was still in there.

I wasn't in there long after that, though. There was no evidence anymore. They had no choice but to release me. I almost ran out of the building, afraid that they would change their minds at the last moment. Besides, I was hungry, broke, and watching the already depressingly gloomy sky darken overhead.

Night was falling, I wasn't familiar with this part of the city, and I thought I could feel my ribs poking out slightly. They weren't - yet - but they were obviously getting there.

So that lead me to begging again, since I didn't want to take another chance with the police that day. It was humiliating, and my voice was kicking my mental ass for it, but I was desperate.

Too bad no one cared enough to spare me a glance.

It was almost wholly dark when I finally retreated to the quieter residential streets in the area, opting for some peace after the day I had.

Apparently, though, Lady Luck was pissed at me, because I had the joy of three teens stepping in my path, effectively blocking off the sidewalk. I mean, why me? Why did everything happen to _me?_

I didn't have much time to lament, though, because one of them decided to point me out to his friends. "Look! A homeless kid! What's wrong? Your parents not love you enough?"

"Fuck off," I snapped as his friends started snickering. I didn't want to put up with their subpar attempts to offend me.

"Oh, no wonder your crack-whore mother kicked you out," one of the other boys chimed in. "You're a _real_ charmer. Smell like one, too. What's that expensive cologne you're wearing called? Burning trash?"

The three started laughing again as if it was the funniest thing in the world. I clenched my fists by my side, grinding my teeth and trying to reign Spike in. I could feel him fighting to come out, and the last thing I wanted was a murder charge.

_Why hold him back? _my voice asked. _Let them die. The insolent bastards deserve it_.

"Look," I tried, "just get out of my way. I don't want any trouble."

The ring leader - the first speaker - snorted at me. "What trouble could your scrawny ass possibly get out of? Wrestling a toddler?"

If he had just said that, nothing would have happened. However, he accented this by shoving my shoulder, prompting me to change the scenario entirely. Let me explain myself: I had no money, I was starving, I had just gotten out of jail, my clothes stank - which hurt my sensitive nose more than they were pretending that it hurt theirs - and I had given them ample opportunity to leave.

I felt that grabbing the guy's wrist, kicking his legs out from under him and pulling his arm behind him sharply while I pressed a foot between his shoulder blades was justified.

"You picked a bad day to bother me," I snarled, letting myself growl in an inhuman manner. Honestly, I didn't care if they knew that I wasn't human. I wouldn't see them again. "I _warned_ you!" I accented the word "warned" with a sharp kick to the back of his head, causing him to scream when his face collided with the sidewalk.

_Now light him on fire!_

"Holy shit, what kind of monster are you?!" one of the sidekicks squeaked, his voice raised several octaves.

...There was that word: Monster. I forced myself not to wince.

_Who cares what they think of you? You warned them plenty of times. If you're a monster, they're a pack of idiots._

Well, of course they were idiots. They picked the wrong guy to mess with. Hell, I don't even think they liked each other that much, since no one was helping gushing nosebleed Nancy under my foot.

But maybe they could help me.

I leaned more of my weight on the kid under my foot, pressing it down between his shoulder blades again. "You two," I ordered, "give me your wallets." When they hesitated, I let out a lionlike snarl. "_Now!"_

Both yelped and dug in their pockets, pulling out their wallets and throwing them on the ground near me.

I moved my foot and yanked my captive to his knees. "You, too. Wallet. Now."

He was practically crying, his hands shaking so severely that I wondered briefly if he could even use them. However, he finally managed to pull his wallet out and toss it with the other two. Good. They were going to generously allow me to get some new clothing and something to eat. How kind of them.

_Oh, get that one's jacket!_ my voice suddenly chimed in. _It looks warm._

Well, I didn't have a jacket of my own. Besides, if I was mugging them, I might as well go all the way, right? I pointed at the one who had never actually spoken to me. "Give me your jacket."

His eyes widened. "What?"

"Did I fucking _stutter?_" I hissed, letting the sentence devolve into a threatening growl. Immediately, he shed the jacket and tossed it to the ground, covering the wallets.

_Oh, get their shoes, too. And golden teeth._

_Okay,_ I thought. _That's enough from you. _I shoved the one I was holding hard, causing him to land on the sidewalk. He scrambled towards his friends, all three now begging and whimpering about why I shouldn't drag their asses down to hell and what not. However, I was done with them. I might have been a monster, but I wasn't without a conscience. I pulled the jacket on and almost shivered from the delicious warmth it offered. Scooping up the wallets, I smiled at the three politely. "Have a nice night." Then, I shoved past them, leaving behind three kids babbling about how they were mugged by some kind of hell beast.

Honestly, they were. And I felt guilty about it. However, it was survival of the fittest, and I had clearly won.

Maybe I wouldn't do so bad in this city after all. I wouldn't like it, but if getting aggressive was what it took, then so be it.

* * *

><p><strong>Well, they should have left him alone.<strong>

**So, Hellcat's becoming more aggressive. Good. :3 Half-Breed's gotta eat.**

**However, there's more to this adventure, so stay tuned! And feel free to review. Or don't. Meh.**

**And enjoy. **

***Bows and exits***


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve is late, I know.**

**The thing about it is that the second month is incredibly redundant and the bottom half was hard to write because I'm me, so it took a while. **

**Long story short, this time skips to the end of the second month. **

**No worries, though. We still have another month to go.**

**So thank you, patient people. I'm going to write faster, I swear!**

**gg180000: Who says that he didn't? **

**RissA15: "It has many annoyings."**

**Mia-Teresa-Davenport: "Technically, Mia killed him. I just was the angel of mercy that put him out of his misery."**

**AllAmericanSlurp: Calm down.**

**So, let's read. Tasha?**

**"Zara doesn't own Lab Rats or anything you recognize. If you don't recognize it, it's probably hers."**

* * *

><p><em>"We've all seen a man at the liquor store beggin' for your change. The hair on his face is dirty, dread-locked, and full of mange. He asks a man for what he could spare, with shame in his eyes. 'Get a job, you fucking slob,' is all he replies. God forbid, you ever had to walk a mile in his shoes, 'cause then you really might know what it's like to sing the blues..."<em>

**Everlast, "What it's Like"**

* * *

><p>"<em>You need to spend time crawling alone through shadows to truly appreciate what it is to stand in the sun."<em>

**Shaun Hick**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chase<strong>_

Do you know how to wisely invest your earnings? Most everybody would say something regarding the stock market, but not me. No, I had something slightly more immediate: Quick change artistry.

It was less violent than outright mugging people and easier than stealing from purses. More importantly, I got to buy an item _and_ keep the money. Two wins, right? My favorite part about it was that it took a level of cleverness that I hadn't previously associated with crime.

We all know how much I enjoy showing off how clever I am.

It was through this avenue of "business" I was conducting that I stumbled on another form of crime that took an admirable amount of intelligence: Conning. Sometimes, if I played my cards right, I could pull off both at once. It was more profitable - and, frankly, more entertaining - than any of the logic puzzles I did in my spare time and the various tests I took at school. _This_ was ever-changing. _This_ was creative. _This_ was, in essence, _art._ I was initially surprised by how fun it was, but when I ignored the guilt, I actually enjoyed it.

Of course, this took all of a week to go sour.

See, when you make money on the streets, certain people start to talk. I didn't know who started the conversation about me, and I never would. All I knew was that I was suddenly a favorite for a series of muggings myself.

I know what you're thinking: _Chase, what kind of handsome, bionic genius can't handle a few delinquents?_

Well, I could initially. It was just three or four of them, so I would be able to fend them off. It was hard, but I could do it. After the first few times, though, it became groups of seven or eight that trapped me in places with only one way out: Past them. And, no matter what weapons I could come up with to use - broken boards, broken bottles, shards of glass from said bottles, my fists of fucking fury; the list goes on and on - I was always overwhelmed in the end. My voice chewed me out for not lighting them on fire, they kicked my ass soundly, and then they took whatever I had earned that day, leaving me penniless.

I didn't know how they assembled and targeted me so fast. I supposed that they were a gang of some sort, and I had intruded on their turf or something. I didn't even know where their turf ended. It was apparently fairly large, because I had yet to find a place where I'd be off of their radar. So, every couple of days for about a month, I would make some money, have it stolen, and end up having to...

Excuse me. I just gagged.

Anyways, every other day or so saw me...well...digging in the dumpsters for dinner.

Don't make that face. I had to eat. I could actually count my ribs at that point, so get over it. _You're_ just hearing about it. I had to _eat_ that shit.

For the record, it was amazing what people threw away. Honestly, I found some pretty intact food in those bins sometimes. So I would camp in those dumpsters for the night, curling up tight to stay warm - it was fucking freezing at night in Seattle when compared to Mission Creek - and try to ignore my injuries.

Honestly, at that point, I wanted to go home. Uncaring, violent family be damned, I just wanted to eat something remotely fresh. And shower. And sleep soundly in my capsule. I wanted hear Tasha humming contentedly as she walked through a room. I wanted to hear Leo and Adam go on and on about super heroes and various comics together. I wanted to listen to Bree complain about her various stupid, petty problems. I wanted to help Mr. Davenport invent something, even if I was just a sidekick while he did it.

Make no mistake here: I hadn't forgotten everything. I could live without Adam's beatings and the various snide remarks from almost everyone. And there was the fact that they hadn't even searched for me. I mean, two months, and there wasn't even any sign of a search. Rude much?

But none of it mattered those nights. I would hug my knees, laying on my side and wanting nothing more than to give up and go home.

I couldn't, though. Every single time I thought about it, I would always get the same kind of response from my voice.

_About time you decided to go back. You can't kill them out here!_

So I stayed in Seattle, enduring various muggings and disgusting dietary habits because, honestly, I felt that I had no choice. If I went home, who knew what would happen the next time Spike popped out. He would _love_ the voice. Even if nothing happened, would they even want me back? I was half-demonic, an abomination, a monster. I was a criminal, a con artist, a thief. I was everything that I had been taught from a young age to avoid.

Maybe I deserved to live in a dumpster. It sure felt like I did.

* * *

><p><em>"...Remembrance can be a sentence, but it comes to you with a second chance in tow. Don't lose it. Don't refuse it. 'Cause you cannot learn a thing you think you know. A new light is warm, shining down on you after the storm. Don't mourn what is gone; greet the dawn. And I will be standing by your side. Together we'll face the turning tide."<em>

**Poets of the Fall, "Dawn"**

* * *

><p><em>"...You have always worn your flaws upon your sleeve...[I] have always buried them deep beneath the ground."<em>

**Bastille, "Requiem for Blue Jeans"**

* * *

><p><strong><em>Tasha<em>**

The house was...well...

It couldn't be defined as a total wreck. Glass and broken picture frames littered the floor in several locations - little spots of blood coloring the floor in some places, too - but the house was far from destroyed. The picture frames, though, were ruined.

Tasha instantly thought that Spike had been the culprit in this situation. Destruction was right up his alley. However, after several seconds, Tasha's heart dropped slightly. Spike couldn't have done it. Chase was gone, which meant that Spike was gone, too.

Then who tore through the house and destroyed the pictures?

Well, the frames. The pictures were missing, oddly enough. It was strange.

Frowning, Tasha followed the small drops of blood up the stairs. She had to pick her way around glass sometimes, and the trail was occasionally hard to see, but she finally found the end at the upstairs bathroom, where she found Donald carefully picking glass out of Leo's knuckles. The latter looked like he had been crying.

Leo. It was Leo. As much as she wanted to be, Tasha wasn't all too surprised. He'd been trying to be the strongest one of the kids the past two months. While Adam spiraled down into some kind of guilt-induced depression and Bree was angry at nearly everyone and everything, Leo had been the one trying to keep everything together.

Whatever had happened, it had been coming for a while. People could only bottle something up for so long.

Quietly, Tasha walked into the bathroom, not even bothering to announce her presence. Both of them likely knew she was there. Instead, she grasped at straws for something that would take her mind off of the mess just outside the bathroom. "Leo? Why aren't you in school?"

Leo remained silent, his expression sullen and slightly hopeless. So, after setting another tiny piece of glass down on the counter and using his tweezers to dig yet another out of Leo's bloody hands, Donald answered for him. "He punched someone, so he's suspended for the next two days."

Tasha raised her eyebrow. "Why?"

Leo muttered something, breaking his stoically dark expression. When pressed for clarification, he finally spoke up. "He said that Chase did everyone a favor by leaving and was probably dead in a gutter somewhere."

Tasha saw Donald suppress a grimace out of the corner of her eyes while she winced. As much as she wanted to tell Leo that Chase was safe somewhere, she had that nagging sense of reality biting at her hope. It was every possibility that Chase was dead. No one had seen or heard from him in two months, and his GPS was still not responding. And, unfortunately, Leo was smart enough to realize that. It was likely what triggered his uncharacteristically violent reaction. After several seconds, Tasha swallowed hard. "And what happened out _there?_" she asked, pointing towards the door.

No one answered immediately. Instead, Donald put the tweezers down and turned Leo's hands over repeatedly. After a second, he nodded. "Okay, go get the first aid kit in the Lab. I'll meet you down there in a second."

Without a word, Leo left the room, his hands still dripping blood sometimes.

Tasha glanced at Donald, who sighed. "He pulled every picture with Chase in it off of the wall and threw them, yelling about how the family's disintegrating and how it was Chase's fault. I couldn't get close enough to stop him without him throwing the pictures at me, and he wouldn't listen to a thing I said. After a few minutes, he scooped all of the pictures up, apologizing constantly and crying. Finally got him to calm down about ten minutes ago."

"How did the glass get in his knuckles, then?" Tasha asked.

Donald shrugged. "Maybe he punched the glass out of one before throwing it. I'm not sure. I didn't see the whole thing."

Tasha nodded quietly.

"Luckily, he only messed up a few of the pictures," Donald went on. Tasha had a feeling that it was more to distract himself from the situation than inform her of anything. "Most of them are a little bent or torn around the edges now, but otherwise fine." He let out a bitter laugh while brushing the bloody glass shards into the trash. "I thought it would be Bree who went on some kind of rampage at some point. Maybe Adam. But not Leo. He's always so _steadfast._ Watching him tearing through the house like that was..._disturbing._" Donnie sighed heavily, looking tired suddenly. "Am I a bad father?"

The question caught Tasha off guard. It was startling that Donald - _her_ Donald - would ever doubt himself. She found herself unable to speak for a moment, her mouth opening and closing dispite her silence. She didn't know what to say. How did someone reassure the most confident man in the world when he lost said confidence?

Donald, however, took that as the answer. He nodded, his face falling. "I thought so."

Tasha suddenly found herelf more annoyed than surprised. He hadn't even waited for her to speak! However, before she could call him on it, he continued speaking. "I mean, Chase ran away, Adam's sad all the time, Bree is angry, and Leo just had some kind of meltdown. I can barely keep it together myself, let alone keep telling them that tomorrow is going to be the day that I finally figure out how to reactivate Chase's GPS signal. I just..." He trailed off, silence filling the void like a suffocating smog until he spoke again, his quiet voice actually cracking a bit. "I don't know what to do anymore, Tasha."

Tasha's annoyance melted away almost immediately. Careful to avoid any leftover glass that might have still been there, Tasha slid herself between the counter and her usually-vibrant, joyous husband. Without a word, she pressed her lips to his gently for a few seconds. Though the kiss was short - and little more than a peck on the lips - it had the desired effect. Donald was now paying attention to her instead of his own pessimism. He wrapped his arms around her while she spoke. "Donald, you're a _fantastic_ father."

Donald frowned. "But-"

"No, Don, listen to me," Tasha interrupted gently. "What's happening to the kids would be going on whether or not you were here. They lost their brother. They're _grieving._ This has to happen. As for what happened to Chase, I don't think there was anything that you could have done that you haven't done already. And you're still trying. Do you know how many people would have given up by now? You're not a bad father. You're the _farthest thing from._"

After several seconds, Donald nodded a bit before hugging her tightly to his chest, running his fingers through her hair. When he spoke, Tasha could have sworn that she imagined it due to how quiet it really was. "Thank you."

Tasha rubbed his back gently. "You know what I think? I think you need a break. Tonight, instead of working on Chase's GPS until three in the morning again, let's take the kids and go do something. Let's see a movie. Or maybe go to dinner. Anything but spend another night moping around the house."

After several quiet, long seconds in which Tasha was sure Donald would protest, he finally nodded. "You're right." She could hear the slight smile in his voice. "You're _always_ right."

Tasha smiled against him. "Don't forget it, either." She let a moment pass before she reluctantly pulled back from Donald. She wanted him to hug her forever, but they would likely stave if that happened. So, instead, she pressed yet another short kiss to his lips. "Let's go see how Leo's doing. He probably thinks we forgot about him at this point."

* * *

><p><strong>I'm not wholly pleased with how the last part turned out. I can't write things like ha to save my life. However, it's here, and that means that it happened.<strong>

**Yay.**

**So we still have a month to go, and we won't do a major time skip through it this time.**

**Until then, feel free to review. Or don't. Whatever. **

**And enjoy.**

***Bows and exits***


	13. Chapter 13

**Okay, so here's Chapter Thirteen.**

**Fun, right? And sooner than lately, so yay! I would have posted yesterday, but a snow storm knocked out my power literally right when I was about to post it. **

**So thank you, readers, reviewers, and casual glancers. Yes, I'm talking to you, you people who casually glance at things. Casually glancing like it's there to glance at.**

**Mia-Teresa-Davenport: ****(Yay! It aggravates me that they're married, but it's never really shown on the show.)**

**"****Hannah varies."**

**RissA15:**** "****I don't recall, at any time, anyone saying that I have a black belt in anything. Mr. Davenport does, and he can kick my ass. Besides, all those movies where someone beats eight or nine people? If you notice, they attack two at a time or so. If everyone's attacking at once, I don't care how good you are. Once you drive two back, three more will have flanked you and be attacking from behind. Long story short, in real life, you're fucked. Besides, I always had Adam and Bree to watch my back when we were fighting ninjas. Not out here."**

**AllAmericanSlurp:**** "****I'm a djinni, not a ****_dog._****"**

**MCA:****Thank you. And, if you don't mind my asking what does MCA stand for, if anything? I'm curious.**

**So let's do this! Hall?  
>"Zara doesn't own Lab Rats or anything you recognize. If you don't recognize it, it's probably hers."<strong>

* * *

><p><em>"<em>_Small things start us in new ways of thinking." _

**V.S. Naipaul****_, A Bend in the River_**

* * *

><p><em>"...I am the one who can recount what we've lost..."<em>

**Elizaveta Khripounova, "I Am The One (Tavern Song)"**

* * *

><p><strong><em>Douglas<em>**

Douglas hated entertaining surprise guests.

Make no mistake: Douglas was a fine host and a hell of a people person, if anyone was asking him. However, when people randomly showed up, he had no time to make something dazzling to amuse them. More importantly, they always showed up when he was busy as hell.

It was okay. He'd put off summoning Chase just to entertain your ass when you didn't even bother to _call_ first.

However, when Head Summoner Arthur Hall showed up at your door, you couldn't turn him away. He was essentially the leader of the Summoner's Council. More importantly, he was also Douglas' current employer. It was just an odd job that he worked on when he wasn't working on discovering Chase's demon name, and Douglas honestly didn't really care why Hall wanted to know all the intricate details of demons that no one else in history seemed to care about, but money was money.

It was just awkward and annoying to have Hall sitting across the kitchen table from him with a disapproving scowl. "You've been working on this for a month. How have you made _no_ progress?"

Douglas didn't know what he wanted to do more: Wince at the idea that he might be fired and lose the payment, or throw a cup of coffee in Hall's face for implying that Douglas was incompetent. Instead, he sighed. "Arthur, you know I'm hitting the same wall you did. Demons won't explain, or they can't explain it in a way that is understandable in the slightest."

Hall narrowed his eyes. "You're supposed to be a genius. Was I steered wrong by my comrades?"

_Your comrades - whoever they are - are dead right,_ Douglas thought. He tilted his head at Hall, carefully keeping his face neutral. Politics was a sucky, hard game to play, but Douglas was damn good at it. "I _am_ a genius," he answered. "I'll figure it out, I swear. Just give me more time. I'll have something to show for it."

Hall raised his eyebrow, leaning back in his chair and sipping at the coffee Douglas had made for him as he obviously considered the offer. Douglas was silent, just watching Hall. It was always nerve-wracking to wait for financial decisions to be made, in particular when he needed that extra bit of cash he'd get to pay the bills that month. After several long, tense moments, Hall finally nodded. "You have a month. After that, I'm finding someone else."

Douglas smiled. "Thank you, sir. You won't regret it."

Hall nodded curtly before standing up. "I had better not."

"I promise that you won't," Douglas responded, walking Hall to the door. "I'll blow your mind with what I find."

"Don't rhyme at me, Davenport," Hall said. "And thank you for the coffee." With that, the oh-so-important leader of the Council opened the door and took his leave.

Douglas resisted the urge to slam the door behind the man. He'd have answers when he had them. It was just nigh on impossible to get any from a demon. They could only explain things in their terms because everything Hall wanted to know was instinctive to them. They couldn't explain a thing to a person and hope to be understood. Douglas sighed. What he needed was someone who wasn't born a demon and had to learn everything on their own.

Of course, a demon that wasn't initially a demon would be impossible to find.

With yet another sigh, Douglas returned to his room upstairs, where his desk was covered in papers for summoning Chase – all he needed was a name, and he was good to go – and Oly, who had decided to stretch out over said pile of papers for a nap. Douglas rolled his eyes and thumped her behind her ear. "Move."

With a flinch and some muttering, Oly jumped off the desk. She jumped on the bed with Yahn – who had decided that not being in the way was a more comfortable place than Oly had been in and had curled up on Douglas' pillow – and buried herself under the blankets. Douglas glared at the little lump she made before he sat down at his desk, turning his attention back to his work. He could summon Chase. He _knew _he could. All he needed was a name. Just a single name. And he had no idea where to start looking.

Great; the one chance he had to get one of his kids back, and he was _so close_ that he just _had_ to hit a brick wall. Why couldn't Chase have written his name down and held it up to the camera before he fled? It would have made life much, much easier. Of course, turning into a demon had to be a shocking experience, so much of Chase's logic had likely abandoned him at that point in time.

Wait a second, Chase hadn't started out as a demon. He had turned into one. So, in theory, _he_ could explain what Hall wanted to know.

Holy hell, why hadn't Douglas thought of that sooner? He would've spent every waking moment trying to summon Chase.

Frantically, Douglas wracked his brain for his son's demonic name. Maybe Douglas could pay the bills _and_ get one of his kids back.

* * *

><p><em>"<em>_The situation is a coffee mug, and I've got a handle on it." _

**Jarod Kintz****_, This Book is Not FOR SALE_**

* * *

><p><em>"<em>_Just remember: If you make unfounded assumptions before choosing a path, you're blindly sauntering along." _

**Auliq Ice**

* * *

><p><strong><em>Chase<em>**

Okay, I think I finally made it out of their territory.

Mainly because I managed to catch a bus out of the city on one of the muggers' off days.

San Francisco, here I come!

Hoping that I'd have a better go of it back in California – provided I wasn't unfortunate enough to run into MS-13 – I had moved south for the winter, folks! Not that it was winter anymore. Spring had cropped up since I had been gone. Thank God for warm weather, right? And the fact that I could see the sun was an immense bonus, too. It was a far cry from the constant cloud cover of Seattle.

It was here that I started what I felt like my trademark con was: Guessing which cup had a ball under it. It was easy. Three cups, one ball, and some shuffling. All you had to do was bet. If you lost, we went for another round. If you won, I kicked you between the legs – or behind the knees – and stole your wallet. It was fun for me and actually quite profitable, provided that I ran into a streak of gambling men. Between that and the "money magic" I could work with cashiers, I was having a much better time of it here in San Fran'.

And all of that kind of took a different, more demonic turn when I woke up one morning with a freaking two-foot long rat curled up on my side. Of course, rats weren't supposed to have saber teeth…or be that big...so it was an imp, but whatever.

What brave imp had decided to curl up on me, you ask?

Well, sit down and let me tell you a story about Scalris, a brave little imp that decided to take a chance and fall asleep next to a half-breed djinni.

I take that back. I didn't actually know his story.

_Insolent little whelp,_ my voice huffed the second I saw Scalris for the first time. _You should eat it. Its bravado would just get it killed anyways. It might as well feed you._

Ignoring my deranged mental companion, I nudged the rat, causing him to wake up. He didn't even flinch away from me. It was nice. At least _someone_ wasn't afraid of me. However, it was strange. He should have been groveling at my feet, not staring at me curiously. I lowered my ears and narrowed my eyes at him. "What the hell are you doing?"

You know what that little thing did? He just yawned and stretched, taking a whole five minutes to answer me. "Staying safe. You're stronger than Rejan."

I pinned my ears. I didn't know who Rejan was, but I knew that I could kick its ass just at the sound of its name. "And who said that I wouldn't eat you instead?"

"You haven't yet," Scalris pointed out. "You decided to talk to me instead."

Fucking smartass. "Fine. You survived. Now get out of here." Hey, it was a dumpster. Those things were small.

"But Rejan is still out there," Scalris protested.

My tail started twitching irritably now. "Not my problem."

_Very good, _complimented my voice.

Scalris frowned. "But…but….If you scare him off, I can show you a place where you can fly."

"I can't fly," I growled. I still didn't know how. I wanted to, but I couldn't.

As if reading my mind, Scalris instantly responded to me. "Then I can teach you. All you have to do is get rid of Rejan."

_Get rid of them both and figure it out on your own!_

After several seconds, I sighed. "Fine. Where's Rejan?"

Scalris poked his head out of the dumpster. I flipped the lid back and stood up only to see a dog sitting at the end of the alley. Of course, by plane three, it was a three-headed snake of some kind, but it was just chilling there.

I snorted. "Seriously?" Without waiting for a response, I hopped out of the dumpster and growled at Rejan, pinning my ears. It stood its ground for a second – one of the heads even hissed at me – but, in the end, it slithered off. Easy, right? Well, at that time, it was. But that's a story for later. At the moment, I turned around and scooped up Scalris. "Okay, Rejan's gone. Now teach me how to fly."

* * *

><p><strong>All right, I know it wasn't great, but it's here, right? Besides, Hellcat's gonna have a lot of adventures in San Francisco. Lots of them quite a bit more demonic than the others. And we're gonna visit flying next time, so everybody wins, right?<strong>

**So, until then, feel free to review. Or don't. Meh.**

**And, of course, enjoy.**

***Bows and exits***


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter…fourteen? I'm too lazy to look. Pretty sure it's fourteen.**

**Anyways, woo. Here it is. **

**If I lack enthusiasm, sorry. Kinda been in a mood for the past week.**

**Anyways, thanks to you reading and reviewing. **

**Mia-Teresa-Davenport:**** "Listen here: I don't care ****_how_**** old you are, you're not-"**

**"****Dougie, Dear, shush. :3"**

**AllAmericanSlurp:**** You're a meerkat trotting along in Africa, minding your own business when, suddenly, a rhino decides to run at you. Do you stick around, or get the fuck out of the way?**

**RissA15:**** "…Zara-"**

**Calm down. *clears throat* Despite the bionics and the various demons, I like to try to keep it a bit realistic. In their universe, realistically, Chase doesn't want to go to a lab to be prodded and experimented on for revealing his bionics to some loud mouth street thugs when all they want is his money. **

**Anyways, let's do this. Leo?**

**"****Zara doesn't own Lab Rats or anything you recognize. If you don't recognize it, it's probably hers."**

* * *

><p><em>"<em>_Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return." _

**Leonardo da Vinci**

* * *

><p><em>"<em>_They [Erasers] were bad fliers," Angel chimed in, "And in their minds, they weren't all kill the mutants, like they usually are. They were like, remember to flap!" _

**James Patterson****_, School's Out—Forever_**

* * *

><p><strong><em>Chase<em>**

You know, when Scalris said he'd help me learn how to fly, I wasn't expecting the bastard to the very top of one of the Golden Gate Bridge spires. It was fucking _high._ I couldn't look at the water below without feeling nauseous. So, instead, I focused on Scalris, who was hopping about as a mockingbird at my feet. "Okay, so flying is easy. Just-"

"Beat my wings," I interrupted, rolling my eyes.

"Keep them flat the whole time, like a board," Scalris went on, ignoring me. "The only part you should be moving is the shoulder joints and, occasionally, the wing joints, but only to pull them in to descend or extend them to glide."

"What about turning?" I crossed my arms, pinning my ears. Surely I had to move them for _that._

"Just raise one wing higher than the other," Scalris huffed impatiently. "Use your tail for little changes in direction. It's long for a reason. It's like your rudder."

I shot him a skeptical look. It was just a tail. It couldn't possibly affect my flight that much.

Scalris started hopping around excitedly again. "Now jump."

Whoa, okay, time out. Zeus could come down and light a fire under my ass with one of his holy thunderbolts, and I _still_ wouldn't be stupid enough to jump off the damn _Golden Gate Bridge._ I wasn't suicidal. No, sir. Not by a long shot. "I'm not jumping out there to die!"

Scalris scoffed. "You're not going to die. Spread your wings, moron."

I growled, pinning my ears. "Don't talk back to me, imp."

Scalris backed up, but beat his wings huffily a bit. "Then jump already!"

I crossed my arms stubbornly. There was no way I was going to -

Scalris jumped up and started squawking, flapping in my face rapidly. That little shit. Snarling, I stumbled back rapidly only to find myself backing off the edge of the pillar. There was nothing holding me up anymore. I fell through the air like a stone, stoically accepting the plummet like it was nothing.

Kidding. I screamed. Like a boss. It was absolutely terrifying. And I always hated feeling like my stomach was in my throat, which was hitting me constantly with more intensity than any roller coaster I had ever ridden before. And, as the water grew ever closer, I suddenly regretted ever following Scalris in the first place. That clever imp just killed me. Wonderful.

_He didn't kill you!_ my voice snapped. _Flap your wings, moron!_

Oh, right. I had those. I snapped my wings out and flapped them crazily, trying to catch the wind. However, I was still falling. Water was still rushing closer to meet me. Cars flew by me as I dropped past the road, screeching in terror and beating my wings as desperately as I could. Joy of joys, I would probably make the evening news now. _Mutant angel seen falling from the sky at the Golden Gate Bridge!_

I wondered when they would finally find my body. Would they study it like I was some kind of alien? Would my family ever find out what had happened? I didn't want the last thing they knew about me to be that I potentially jumped from the Golden Gate -

My wings caught air.

I flapped my wings crazily and, in a series of various, uncoordinated flaps, managed to right myself. At least, I did a little bit. I managed to turn my deadly plummet into an awkward flight, flapping ungracefully and flying not ten feet from the water, the wind off the bay carrying me a bit. My heart was still pounding from the adrenaline from my fall, but now that I wasn't dying, my panic was subsiding. In fact, flying became more fun. I found it hard to stay in a straight line, but I was flying, damn it!

Beside me, a mockingbird flew by. Scalris had joined me, pulling his wings in to drop to my eye level. "Use your tail," he yelled. "It'll help you balance."

_Didn't he tell you that earlier? Aren't you supposed to have an exceedingly awesome memory or something stupid?_

I rolled my eyes and flicked my tail as I started to veer off course. Of course, flicking it widely sent me careening in the direction I wanted to go much farther than I had intended. Apparently, tails were very effective. Good to know, I supposed. The next time I corrected myself, I barely moved my tail at all. _And it worked._ It was awesome! I could stay in a straight line with minimal effort. Naturally, it took me a couple of hours flying around with Scalris before I finally managed anything resembling grace – especially when turning – but I did it, damn it. Landing, however….

Long story short, I ended up scraping half my skin off sliding across the top of a skyscraper. I'd have to practice that. However, since Scalris had already landed and turned back into his usual ratty self, I knew we were done for the day. So, instead of practicing my flying some more, I used some debris to start a small fire on top of the building. I knew that California was warm and all, but the top of skyscrapers at sunset weren't exactly toasty. Besides, Scalris seemed perfectly happy to curl up by my little fire, so whatever.

_How long are you going to keep that thing around?_

I pinned my ears at my voice. _Scalris seems perfectly civil. He's helping me learn to fly, and he's actually nice._

_He's using you for protection. He wasn't being chased for no reason. His master probably sent him to do something that Rejan's master didn't like._

I frowned. "Scalris? Why was Rejan after you?"

Scalris peered at me. "My master had me take a very important amulet from his master. You know how masters are, Vânăto'. If one has something shiny, someone else instantly wants it. I'm kind of just waiting to be dismissed at this point. He already has the amulet. Don't know why he needs me."

"What did you call me?" I asked. Whatever he said, it had sent a tremor through my being.

"That's your name, isn't it? îngrijirea Vânătoare?"

My name was Chase. So…why did those words send a strange identifying thrill through me?

_Because it's your name. When summoners call you, they use that name. _

Really? _That_ was my name? Nothing more masculine? And masters? What was that about? I sighed and nudged Scalris. "Hey, explain this summoning thing to me."

* * *

><p><em>"<em>_Losing people you love affects you. It is buried inside of you and becomes this big, deep hole of ache. It doesn't magically go away, even when you stop officially mourning." _

**Carrie Jones****_, Captivate_**

* * *

><p><em>"<em>_When you lose someone, you get used to living day to day without them. But you'll never get used to the "10 second heartbreak." That's the time it takes to wake to full consciousness each day and remember…" _

**Nina Guilbeau**

* * *

><p><strong><em>Leo<em>**

Oddly enough, the first thing he woke up to on the first day he was allowed to go back to school was a new picture on his nightstand. It was the time they had gone to the beach. And, even though they hadn't had fun like they planned, they sure looked like they were enjoying themselves in the picture. Especially Chase, who had his arm around Leo's shoulders with a massive grin.

Where did that picture come from? He hadn't put it there. In fact, there wasn't a picture of Chase anywhere on the walls anymore since he tore them down. And he wanted to tear this one down, too. Why was Chase smiling like that? He wasn't allowed to be happy when everyone else was suffering because of him. What the hell was his problem?! What did _he_ have to be so happy about?

Of course, in the back of Leo's mind, he acknowledged reluctantly that it was just a picture. Chase had been happy in that moment. It didn't mean that he was happy now. If he was still alive, that was.

Leo winced. Of course Chase was alive. He was smart. He could make it. He would've found a place to stay. He was likely just fine.

So why didn't he come home?

Leo rubbed his eyes hard. He didn't want to think about it anymore. He'd been searching for that answer for two months, and he'd gotten no closer to finding it. It was driving him insane. Why couldn't one day go by when he didn't nitpick at everything he remembered, trying to find that one reason that would keep Chase away?

With a sigh, he looked at the picture again. Chase was still smiling that infuriating smile of his, his eyes lit up with joy. It was odd. Usually any smile Chase had never reached his eyes. Maybe he just wasn't as expressive as everyone. Maybe he just wasn't happy for some reason. Whatever it was, it made Leo want to throw the picture across the room until Chase wasn't smiling anymore. He had abandoned Leo to the perils of high school, had sentenced him to torturous hours of bullying alone. He used to be able to handle it, but he had gotten so used to Chase going through it as well – sometimes even smiling about the weaker taunts, laughing as hard as someone watching a comedy – that Leo had no idea how to cope anymore. Adam and Bree were too lost in their own little worlds to help him at all anymore, either, so Leo was on his own.

It was this thought process that had him confused when, right before he went off to school, he looked at that picture again and smiled himself.

* * *

><p><strong>Leo might have blown up, but he's feeling a bit better now.<strong>

**And Chase is learning a bit about summoning, too, so yay! **

**So, until we meet these guys again, feel free to review. Or don't. Meh.**

**And enjoy.**

***Bows and exits***


	15. Chapter 15

**Achievement unlocked: Survivor**

_**Survived a twenty hour server crash on Fanfiction.**_

**Achievement unlocked: Withdrawal**

_**Survived**** two weeks without a Hellcat update.**_

**Achievement unlocked: Good things come to those who wait**

_**Didn't spam Zara with annoying "update now" messages.**_

**You patient people. :3 Thank you so much.**

**Mia-Teresa-Davenport: "Like I needed more blows to my self-esteem right now." *pets Armageddon***

**DarkestKing: He's going to need all the luck he can get.**

**gg180000: I don't think Leo likes to think about it. I, however, laughed. :3**

** So, let's do this. Hellcat?**

**"Zara doesn't own Lab Rats or anything you recognize. If you don't recognize it, it's probably hers."**

* * *

><p>"...<em>My road of good intentions lead where such roads always lead. No good deed goes unpunished..."<em>

**Idina Menzel, "No Good Deed"**

* * *

><p><em>"...Maybe this is all a part of my flawed design..."<em>

**Stabilo, "Flawed Design" (For the record, I like to think of this as Douglas' theme.)**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chase<strong>_

So, as it turned out, demons in this realm had masters. Their free will was gone when they entered the Circle from the Otherworld. It made more sense as to why they didn't just destroy everything randomly. It was reminiscent of slavery, but probably necessary. I liked this world. Didn't want anything to happen to it.

I was still a bit sad that Scalris was gone by the time I woke up. His master had probably called him back to dismiss him or something. Whatever the case was, I was alone again.

Well, as alone as I could be with an evil little voice in my head. But, if the voice's claim was true, and it _was_ just a part of me, I supposed that I was still alone, so...yeah. I was alone again with the little voices in my head.

...That didn't sound crazy at all...

However, I wasn't worse off for meeting Scalris. Now that I knew how to fly about, I could get to safer places at night to sleep, often putting it in park on the tops of buildings where small fires would go unnoticed. Good thing, too, because Rejan had started to follow me around. Apparently, his master had decided to come after me now. Either that, or Rejan was resentful that I sent him away. However, he was sometimes accompanied by a few more imps and the occassional djinni.

See, kids? Get involved in something you don't know about, and _shit_ happened.

Because of my new imp tails, I had to essentially dance around the city. I couldn't stay in one area more than a day, and sometimes I couldn't stay longer than that. I didn't know what Rejan wanted. I honestly didn't care. The way Rejan was around every corner, hiding in every shadow, always finding me within hours of me moving to a different location. It was unnerving, honestly. Didn't I just escape a gang of assholes?

Whatever they were up to, they sure were taking their time.

Days passed with me first chasing Rejan off, then avoiding him like the plague. His insistence was becoming a problem. I wondered fleetingly what Scalris had stolen that was so important that they were now following me. Some kind of amulet, he had said. Whatever it was, I was now all over the radar. Delightful, right?

Day after day, I fought to evade imps and djinnis. Night after night, I hid as best I could only to wake up with someone nearby.

The more frequent the encounters, the more I started to worry. What did they want with me? What did I do? What would happen now?

For days, it seemed like nothing would happen. They just waited and watched me. Until something went wrong, I had time. I had time to find out what they wanted. I had time to flee. I had time to get the hell out of Dodge.

Well, you get the idea. I had _time._

I used this to drag the chase out, aware that they were closing in on me but not fast enough to make me flee the city. Honestly, I was a tad curious as to the exact nature of the hunt. I wanted to know what was going on, and the only way to find out was to possibly get close to the imps. But they were all protected by the djinnis that were with them, djinnis strong enough to tear my tail off if they worked together. So I watched, moved, and waited as well. My opportunity to beat the information out of Rejan or another imp would come at some point.

Unfortunately, my wait-and-see attitude failed. Apparently, I wasn't quite the tactical genius that I thought I was. How did I know this?

I woke up surrounded by four afrits one morning.

I know what you're thinking. I know that you're wondering how I got away. I see it in your eyes. See, I want to tell you that I fought tooth and nail to get away. I _wish_ I could tell you that. However, four afrits made instinct take over. I ended up being dragged along with them, cowering among the beasts. Even my voice - my only companion now - was utterly silent this time. I didn't know what would happen now, but I knew one thing: I messed up. I should've left when I had a chance.

* * *

><p>"<em>Respect comes in two unchangeable steps: Giving it and receiving it."<em>

**Edmond Mbiaka**

* * *

><p>"<em>I always think of a no as one no closer to a yes."<em>

**Jeremy Kent Jackson**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Douglas<strong>_

Scalris liked to make things annoyingly misty.

Douglas wrinkled his nose as condensation gathered on the papers in his Circle, moistening the material and making it annoyingly limp. In the opposite Circle, the rat imp scurried around, examining each like closely. Normally, Douglas wouldn't have bothered with an imp that had a knack for creating annoying illisions when summoned, but Lovett had insisted.

_This imp might help answer your questions,_ Lovett had said. _He managed to obtain an amulet for me, so he should be able to help you a bit._

Looking back, Douglas regretted taking the advice. Stupid imp, getting moisture everywhere. Besides, what answers could he possibly have that the other imps didn't?

Waste of time. It was a waste of time.

Douglas sighed, waiting for Scalris to actually stay still. When he didn't, Douglas rolled his eyes. "Scalris, stop moving."

The imp winced, but went still in the Circle, his tail resting on the ground. "What?"

Douglas wanted to throw his pencil at Scalris for addressing him so casually. Stupid little imp. Just because Oly smarted off didn't mean other imps could. However, he kept his temper in check and rolled his shoulders. "I have questions. What is essence?"

"It's not for you, mortal," Scalris huffed.

"Tell me about essence," Douglas snapped.

Scalris winced again and huffed out an answer that was just a useless. "It is what we're made of."

_Waste of time_, Douglas found himself thinking again. Useless, useless imp. Douglas let out an exasperated sigh. "Just...never mind. You know nothing, anyways."

Scalris huffed indignantly. "Excuse me? I know lots of things!"

Douglas rolled his eyes. "Nothing relevant."

"Hey, I just spent two days stealing an amulet! Do you know how much security was guarding that thing?"

"I'm sure it's nothing," Douglas muttered.

Scalris was getting visibly frustrated. "I poked a Half-Breed and lived. A djinni!"

"Me, too," Douglas responded, rolling his eyes yet again.

"Who, that one?" Scalris pointed with his paw.

Douglas frowned and followed the point until his eyes landed on Chase's picture on his desk. Well, that might be useful. "What about him?"

"He's a pushover," Scalris snorted. "Too eager to save someone."

That sounded like Chase, all right. Feeling excited, Douglas leaned forward a bit. "Do you know his name?"

Scalris shrugged.

"_Tell me,_" Douglas snapped.

"Îngrijirea Vânătoare," Scalris hissed, flinching.

Douglas rapidly scribbled the name down. "Awesome. Thanks."

Scalris shot him an extremely puzzled look. "Um...thanks? Did you just thank me?"

Douglas waved his words away, ignoring the imp's surprise. Most of them were very confused by anyone doing something like scratching them behind the ears, thanking them for anything or showing any kindness, really. Douglas never understood why other summoners didn't do it. Demons were just as sentient as humans. His dad had spent years teaching him that they deserved respect. It was a pity that so few people seemed to share the sentiment.

Douglas tried not to dwell on it. It didn't matter what happened when he couldn't change it. He could respect demons he summoned or came into contact with. Maybe that would make them feel even slightly better about being forced to listen. After writing the vital name down, Douglas started to dismiss the imp. He had started to fade out, his essence faded as he went back to the demonic realm with nothing but a hesitant sentence echoing after him.

"You're welcome, I guess."

* * *

><p><strong>It was short, and it was mainly filler, but next one will be better. :3<strong>

**So, until next time, feel free to review. Or don't. Meh.**

**And enjoy.**

***Bows and exits***


	16. Chapter 16

**"Zaaaaaraaaaaaa, this chapter suuuuuuuucks."**

**Shut up, Hellcat.**

**"But it's anticlimactic! Endings shouldn't be anticlimactic!"**

**It's not an ending. It's a direct segue into _Hybrid_.The last half is just for fun.**

**"Still sucks."**

**Shut _up,_ Hellcat!**

**So, as you might have gathered, this is the last chapter of _Homeless._ It's, as described, anticlimactic, but that's because it runs right into Hybrid. It's a connector, really. **

**So, of course, since this is the end, I'd like to thank anyone that read and reviewed on this story. :3 None of these would exist without you guys.**

**gg180000: I...okay.**

**AllAmericanSlurp: One.**

**MCA: Thanks! This made my day. :3**

**DarkestKing: He was just too cocky to leave. Crazy Hellcat.**

**Mia-Teresa-Davenport: "Don't sass me."**

**So, let's finish this. Douglas?**

**"Zara doesn't own Lab Rats or anything you recognize. If you don't recognize it, it's probably hers."**

* * *

><p>"...<em>Hearken now, sons of snow, to an age long ago, and the tale, boldly told, of the one who was kin to both wyrm and the races of man, with a power to rival the sun!..."<em>

**Jeremy Soule, "Dragonborn"**

* * *

><p>"<em>Every ending is a beginning. We just don't know it at the time."<em>

**Mitch Albom**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chase<strong>_

You know, being a prisoner again wasn't that great, and it _certainly_ wasn't high on my list of things to do again since my brief stay in jail. Hell, I'd gladly take jail over where I was now. See, in jail, there were bars. Here, I was in some kind of magic trap. It was some kind of energy orb, like I was trapped inside one of my forcefields. However, this yellow ball was gradually closing in on me. I wasn't usually claustrophobic, but _damn_. I had made the mistake of turning into a cat to give myself more time, but that only caused the thing to accelerate until it was close to me again, moving slowly and now much, much smaller.

The fun part about this was that the orb singed my whiskers when I got too close to it. So this thing was going to kill me. What a wonderful day I was having!

Why was I in that particular situation? Well, because Rejan's master - an angry, middle-aged woman with an apparent cruel streak - thought that I knew exactly where her beloved amulet went. I had saved Scalris, so I had to be involved, right? So I had to deal with her questions that I had no answers to.

"Who is your master?"

"No one."

She would snort. "Impossible. All demons have masters. Otherwise, you wouldn't be on this plane."

I pinned my ears. "Maybe I'm different."

"You're not special, djinni," she rebuked. "You're nothing but a slave on this planet, and your master obviously thinks you're disposable."

The orb burned the tip of my tail, causing me to curl up and tuck my tail safely around me. "I'm my own master."

"Disillusioned whelp," she huffed at me. "You don't have the intelligence that humans have to retain your free will. You wouldn't be able to survive if someone wasn't controlling you."

Ow. Dehumanizing much?

_You aren't human, so get over it._

Oh, there my voice was. _Way to join the party,_ I huffed. To the wonderfully angry woman who was hell-bent on frying me, I just turned my nose up and kept quiet. Hey, if she wanted me to give her an answer I didn't have, she could at least make an effort to _not_ insult me. Stupid bitch. Worse was that some strange tugging feeling started running down my spine. Whatever she was doing, it was becoming annoying and a bit more painful than it was earlier. Great. She was going to tear my spine out without touching me. How wonderful.

_Would you just calm down?_ my voice huffed a bit. _You'll be fine. Someone's summoning you._

_Impossible_, I responded, trying to make myself even smaller at my whiskers started to burn off again. _No one knows my name._

Still, the tugging intensified, taking on the feeling of a dozen or so fishhooks pulling my essence around while strange words started to run through my mind. For some reason, I instinctively thought that they were right.

_Because whoever this is knows what he's doing_, my voice explained.

"_Hey_," my captor snapped. "Answer me, djinni! Do you have any idea how important that amulet is?"

Summoning was really starting to hurt. I pinned my ears, hissing. _What do I do?!_

_Give in. And make sure you generate some fun illusions like wind or ice. Try to scare your summoner._

Unsure if I was doing it right, I relaxed, thinking of nothing but letting the hooks tug me away.

The woman was visibly furious at me now. "Don't you _dare_ hiss at me! I have spent _years_ trying to get that amulet, and I'm not losing it to some disgusting creature! Fucking tell me where you took it! Where did you take Azazel's-"

I didn't hear the end of that. Everything went dark and absolutely cold. I was aware that I was formless as I travelled through whatever plane I was traversing, and I had no way to control where I was going. However, I figured that escaping that psychotic lady was better than nothing, so I just allowed myself to be pulled along until, an indeterminate amount of time later, I could feel myself gathering inside a Circle. _My_ Circle.

Someone had successfully summoned me. How, I didn't know, but it didn't really matter. I just knew that it had to be better than waiting in an obviously flawed trap.

I didn't think it would be as significantly life-changing as it was, either, but that was a story for another day.

* * *

><p><em>"It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important."<em>

**Antoine de Saint-Exupéry,_ The Little Prince_**

* * *

><p>"<em>Perspective is an incredibly powerful tool. It tempers how we receive information, and guides what we choose do with it."<em>

**T. A. Sorensen**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Douglas, Four Months Later<strong>_

Tasha wasn't allowed to touch his Thanksgiving turkey.

She could play chef with the side dishes all she wanted. Douglas could grin and bear that, since she was a fairly decent cook herself. But _no one_ was allowed near the pièce de résistance of the Thanksgiving dinner. _Especially_ not some amateur. It was why he had spent the better part of the morning preparing the best turkey he could. It was time-consuming, but it was to prove the point that _he_ was the top chef around the house, and no one was going to take that away from him. He had even made stuffing from scratch. It was going to be the most perfect turkey ever made in the Davenport household.

Hell, it would be the finest turkey in the world, if Douglas' opinion mattered. Which it did. A lot.

However, this obsessive attention to his dish had left him a bit too preoccupied to notice that Chase wasn't hanging around the kitchen, ready to lick spoons clean before Adam got to them. He had beaten his older brother to some brownie batter the night before, which he seemed very proud of. However, there weren't deserts today. Just main dishes being finished. Adam had lost interest a couple of hours earlier, since nothing he got - and shared with Yahn - was sweet. Chase, however, had a kind of "sweet tooth" for anything even remotely meat-flavored. Maybe it was instinct, but he was fond of it.

With this in mind, Douglas had Oly standing near the oven to keep Tasha out of it. He had left the utensils he had used to make his masterpiece on the counter and turned towards the stairs just to see Adam, Leo and Bree sitting on the couch, watching the television with bored expressions. With a sideways glance to make sure that Tasha wasn't watching, Douglas scooped up three cookies and passed the couch, handing one to each of them with a wink. They had been banned by both Tasha and Donald from eating any of the deserts before Thanksgiving dinner, and watching their faces light up with mischievous glee as they each got a cookie and ate it before Tasha could notice made Douglas smile as he headed upstairs.

Knocking on Chase's door, Douglas let himself into the room without even waiting for a response. "Hellcat? I have a turkey spoon with your name on it." However, he was met with an empty room. He frowned and looked around. Maybe the kid was hiding in the room somewhere. However, he saw nothing. So, not wanting to hunt his youngest kid down, he instead loudly declared, "I'm going to de-alphabetize everything on your desk, Hellcat."

The response was instant, letting Douglas know that Chase was in the bathroom down the hall. "Don't you dare! I'll come out there and kick your ass!"

"I'd like to see you try," Douglas scoffed, curiously opening a desk drawer just to frown. Chase's response went unheard as Douglas observed yet another of Chase's stashes. A small jar of peanut butter and a sleeve of crackers, a few easy-open cans of vegetables and soup, and what looked like maybe forty dollars. Douglas let out a sigh. Donnie had said to take the stashes away from Chase, who had developed a food-hoarding habit after...whatever had happened when he was homeless. It was like Chase's safety net. He probably felt better when he had a few days' worth of rations to fall back on in an emergency. It was an unneeded habit when he could get food at any time from the kitchen. That didn't stop him from hoarding, though. He was always visibly agitated after someone took the stash they uncovered away, too.

Douglas didn't know what had happened that turned Chase into a food hoarder. He honestly didn't think he wanted to ask. The closest thing he had to go on was the large amount of food Chase had eaten the first night they had lived together, something that Tasha and Donald hadn't seen.

It had rivaled Adam when he was eating sugary foods.

However, Don was right. Hoarding shouldn't be encouraged. He really should take the stash back to the kitchen, but...

The door opened down the hall, followed by Chase's voice. "I'm coming, you douchebag!"

In a second, Douglas made his decision and closed the drawer rapidly, pretending that he had never found it as he started messing with papers for show. A few seconds and some hissing later, Douglas had to drop the papers and spin around to fend off Chase's playful boxing. It wasn't as entertaining as a martial arts spar, but it was Chase's main hand-to-hand fighting style now that he couldn't move around drastically without aggravating his leg injury. It was good for practicing his bobbing and weaving, anyways.

After a second, Chase finally stopped his assault and perked his ears at the papers on the desk, sorting through them rapidly to make sure that everything was still in order. He nodded after a moment and looked at Douglas. "What do you want?"

Douglas shrugged, smiling. "There's some utensils in the kitchen with your name on them. I made the turkey with them."

With a whoop, Chase scrambled out of the room, his limp making it look awkward.

Douglas, however, hesitated. After a second, he pulled his wallet out and took out a twenty dollar bill. Rapidly, he opened the drawer and added the money to Chase's stash before closing the drawer and finally following Chase.

If it made Chase feel better, then let him have his stash.

* * *

><p><strong>That's it. Everyone go home. This directs straight to the trilogy, so ignore the crappy ending. <strong>

**I'd still, however, like to say thanks. :3 You guys rock.**

**And I have a couple of one-shots and another multichapter story up my sleeve, so yay.**

**So, until then, feel free to review. Or don't. Meh.**

**And enjoy.**

***Bows and exits.***


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